


Carpe Noctem

by Macx



Series: Denuo [5]
Category: Magnificent Seven (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M, Paranormal, Vampires
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-05-13
Updated: 2011-05-13
Packaged: 2017-10-19 08:21:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 28,517
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/198849
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Macx/pseuds/Macx
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Denuo: modern time frame. Chris Larabee, head of a CSI team, is trying to solve a strange case of murders. When he meets dead end after dead end, Assistant Director Orrin Travis gives him a civilian consultant by the name of Ezra Standish to work with. Standish seems to have a strange knowledge of what is happening and Chris knows he's lying through his teeth. But the truth is way more fantastic than anyone would ever believe...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Carpe Noctem

**Author's Note:**

> This marks the step from the Old West timeframe into the modern days and the whole of Denuo continues only in modern times. You'll see the paranormal twist soon. Hope you'll stay with me and the stories as they continue. It's a long, long ride, be warned! I was prolific!

 

Damn, damn, damn...  
All he could do was swear silently and fight for his life. He had known it was a bad idea to go after the robbers alone, had called in for back-up ... but back-up took its time. Time that Officer Chris Larabee was running out of right now, as a strong arm wrapped itself around his neck from behind, cutting off his oxygen supply. The last thing he saw through the shadows dancing in front of his eyes was a flash of light as a blade descended toward him.  
Next thing he heard was the clanging sound of metal on the floor, the thud of something solid against something not so solid, like a human body, and the arm flew away from his throat, allowing his body to suck in deep breaths again. Chris sank down onto his knees, choking and coughing, waiting for the dizziness to go away.  
"You okay?" a soft, male voice asked from behind and a hand stretched out to help him up.  
Chris grabbed the helping hand without thinking.  
It tickled.  
The sensation of the man's skin against his own was like electricity, making the hair on his neck stand on end. It wasn't a bad feeling, just odd. But - pleasurable?  
Chris's head jerked up and he looked into the damnest, greenest, cat-like eyes he had ever seen in his entire life. And those eyes belonged to a man.  
A man whose face fell, shocked.  
"Chris?" he whispered.  
"Have we met before?" he croaked.  
"No, we ..."  
"Chris? Buddy, you all right?" came a voice from the other side of the alley that Chris easily identified as Buck Wilmington, his friend and back-up. The man's head jerked around and a part of Chris's mind noticed he was still holding his hand. The next second the feeling was gone and as Larabee returned his attention back to the unconscious bodies on the ground, he couldn't make out a single sign of the mysterious green-eyed stranger.

* * *

(seven years later)

Dr. Nathan Jackson wondered why these places had to smell like they did. Somehow, every autopsy room was colored in what the medic could only call vomit-green, smelled strongly of disinfectant and was brightly lit to show even the tiniest detail. Gurneys were lined up and all were empty except for one. He sighed and adjusted the microphone attached to the front of his surgical scrubs. He snapped on a pair of sterile gloves, then picked up the chart and started to dictate.  
"This is Case Number 02-45863, John Doe. Caucasian male, well nourished body, approximately 40 to 45 years old, dark brown short hair, brown eyes. The body is 73 inches long and weighs 170 pounds."  
He put the chart down and moved beside the body. Bright overhead lights blazed down onto the dead body, giving the skin an almost porcelain-like appearance.  
X-rays, multiple photographs, measurements and weight had all been obtained earlier. Fingerprints had been taken, the clothes had been wrapped securely in zip-lock bags, and Nathan had already examined finger nails and hair. It was now time to proceed with the internal dissection of the body.  
"Rigor mortis is present in the extremities," Nathan went on. "The skin is of normal texture; there is no visible scarring. No outside wounds."  
Well, he hadn't been shot or stabbed or had fallen off a high building, Nathan mused. The body had been found in a motel room by the cleaning lady. The owner had called the police and the body had ended up on Nathan's table.  
Sometimes Jackson asked himself how he had ever ended up with a career in law enforcement. He had always wanted to go to Med School and become a doctor. He had done everything in High School and College to insure his way was paved for his chosen career. And then something had drawn his interest to forensic pathology. It had been a quiet fascination and Nathan loved nothing more than a mystery. Of course, that meant all his patients were dead, but it hadn't really deterred him. He had made his way, had taken all the courses he needed, and he had worked for different university hospitals and even government service in his past career.  
"I will now open the chest with a thoracic-abdominal incision," Jackson went on, picking up his scalpel.  
He had a job to do and people wanted to know what this guy had died of.

* * *

The Clarion Tower was an old brickstone building that didn't reach past the seventh floor of the much larger skyscrapers around it. It squatted like a piece of ancient rock just at the fringe of the steel and glass 'scrapers, insignificant in size but not in historical value. It had been a newspaper building, then a clothing factory, a storage facility, then a restaurant with a museum, and lately, a governmental service had taken residence. The outside was still a display of historical value, but the inside looked just as modern and impressive as any new building. The CSI, Crime Scene Investigations, had completely taken over the Clarion Tower after extensive renovations, but it wasn't exactly the CSI that worked here. It was a task force simply called 'the Branch', which was officially part of the CSI but worked their own cases and didn’t really conform to standard CSI operation procedures.  
Assistant Director Orrin Travis, in charge of the Branch, resided on the top floor. His office was large, with an impressive view of the mountains in the distance. Currently he wasn't really looking at the serene beauty, which he sometimes studied while thinking about something or other. Right now, he was reading over  the autopsy report Dr. Nathan Jackson had sent in. There were a lot of side notes and a private report that had Travis sigh deeply.  
He swore under his breath. He had always feared that one day something like this would happen, and he had dearly prayed that he wouldn't live to see this day. Or still be in office. He would gladly retire now and leave this mess to a successor, but unfortunately fate had dealt him this case.  
Travis swiveled his chair and gazed at the mountains, contemplating what to do. The police was at a loss as to who the man was and why he had been killed. The coroner’s report didn't help them; at least the official one Nathan had delivered. No side notes, no private attachment. Jackson, like all Branch members, was officially with the CSI and he worked regular cases most of the time. It was one reason why he had known what to do with his mysterious findings, and it was one reason why Travis decided to keep the pathologist involved in the case.  
"Time to pay a visit, old friend," he suddenly murmured.  
He got out of his chair and grabbed his coat. As he left the Clarion Tower, he pulled out his cell phone and dialed a number. It would be best to ascertain the man's position; it would save him a lot of time.

* * *

“Rise and shine, boys, we have a new case.” Chris Larabee walked into the partitioned office floor that belonged solely to his team of investigation specialists, briefly checking who was present.  
Except for JD Dunne, their resident hacker, all were accounted for. Dunne was probably buried in the computer room, doing something or other to the hardware.  
“Unexplained death, probably murder,” he went as the others listened up.  
“Local PD case?” Buck Wilmington asked, crumbling a sandwich paper into a ball and throwing it expertly into the bin.  
“Not any more. Apparently there are some inconsistencies, especially after the autopsy. The guy was on Nathan’s table. He filed the report to Travis and now it’s ours. Travis assigned us Nathan Jackson, as well as a new man for this, too," Chris went on and the other men shot him surprised looks. "Ezra Standish."  
"Never heard of him," Vin commented.  
Neither had the others.  
“CSI?” Josiah asked.  
“No. He was with law enforcement once, but not CSI. He'll be here later. I've scheduled a meeting for 7."  
"Seven p. bloody m.?" Buck exclaimed.  
"Yes, seven p.m., Mr. Wilmington," Larabee answered levelly. "Do you have a problem with that?"  
Wilmington grumbled something and shook his head.  
"Why so late, cowboy?" Vin wanted to know, playing with a paper clip.  
"You'll find out. Just pry JD off the computers. Nathan’ll be here as well. He’ll tell you about his findings himself. Everything else we are currently working on has been put on the back burner. This has priority."  
Josiah shrugged. He had been stuck on his case anyway and was currently waiting for a report that apparently took ages to get through normal channels. No big loss.  
“I’ll stock up on coffee and bagels,” he only commented.  
“Donuts,” Vin added slyly.  
“Only if I ever get one as well,” the psychologist replied.  
“You’re just too slow, old man,” Vin teased.  
A snort answered that statement. No one could beat Tanner to a box of fresh sweets the moment he caught a whiff of it.  
Chris only smiled and headed for his office. He had a lot to prepare for and a lot more to think about.

* * *

Chris settled in his chair in the meeting room, way ahead of time, looking through the thin files without really seeing anything. In his mind, he was replaying the meeting with Travis hours before. There was still part of him who believed all of this to be one big joke, but his superior didn't joke. Not with this.

"You'll get a new man for this case," the AD told Chris, smiling slightly as he noted the frown on the tanned features.  
"Sir, I’ve four very capable men, five if you count Nathan. I don’t need additional help."  
"Yes, you do. With this you do. Ezra Standish might be called an expert in his field and what I've heard from Dr. Jackson, you'll need him. He has agreed to help us out with this."  
Chris rolled the sentences over in his head. "He's not CSI?" he then asked.  
"Not really, no. He worked law enforcement before, but he's not on our employment records. Not on the Branch's either.  
"What kind of specialist is he?"  
Travis looked suddenly thoughtful and Chris felt his gut tighten. He didn't like the expression in the older man's eyes. It usually meant something profoundly bad or something so surprising, it would most likely floor him.  
"You could call Mr. Standish one of a kind, except that there are more like him out there, though I have no idea how many," Travis began slowly. "I was against revealing his nature to you, but he insisted, since you have to work closely together."  
"Sir...." Chris started, but Travis held up a hand.  
"Let me finish, Chris. I've known the man for years now, actually since I first met him as a rookie cop."  
How old was the guy? Chris wondered.  
"He has proven to be a good friend and a reliable source of information when things turned weird enough to require it."  
Weird? What was so weird about this case? Except that it doesn’t look like a murder, that is, and it has no obvious clues yet.  
"Mr. Standish can only work nights."  
That had Chris blink. "Nights, sir? Uh, begging your pardon, but..."  
"Mr. Standish has a .... skin condition. It won't be much of a problem," Travis interrupted him, "since he isn't expected to team up with any of you while you are out on the streets, except when he deigns it necessary -- and that will only be nights."  
"Sir, this getting more than strange," Chris told his superior, shaking his head. "Who is this guy?"  
Travis leaned forward. "To say it clearly.... Ezra Standish is a vampire."

Even now, hours later, Chris was still not convinced that Travis was actually serious about this. A vampire? A blood-sucker out of some horror novel? But all had spoken for it, AD Travis had been very much serious. He had proceeded to tell him some fantastic sounding stories about the existence of vampires, as well as calm him that Standish wasn't going for anyone's throat. Vampirism was more of an illness than the demonic existence the movie industry had made of it.

"What do I need him for?" Chris heard himself ask, still reeling. Vampire! Standish was a vampire? Was it April's Fools Day and he had missed it?  
"The victim was a vampire," Travis answered levelly.  
The next shock. "What?" he blurted. He'd need a serious therapy session if this went any further.  
"Dr. Jackson confirmed it, even though he has no idea what exactly the man was. I read the autopsy report and I know enough about vampires to recognize a dead one when I see the medical facts." Travis smiled humorlessly.  
"I thought they crumbled to dust," Chris muttered, wondering when reality had morphed into some kind of fantastic realm.  
Travis chuckled. "Hollywood," was his only comment.  
"Ah." Very intelligent, Larabee, he snorted silently.  
"Actually, there are ways to kill them, but they are far and few. You can injure them quite badly, but to terminate their existence to a degree that they can't regenerate is rather rare."  
"Sunlight?" Chris hazarded a guess.  
"No. For details, you have to ask Ezra Standish. He agreed to cooperate fully."  
"Nice to know."  
Travis smiled. "I know this is a lot to take in, but it's nothing but the truth, Chris. He is what he is. He isn't a danger to you or the team, he'll work with you to his capacity, and I think he can help.”

Well, Chris hoped so, too.  
Now, how to break the news to the team? This wasn't exactly just slightly out of the ordinary. This was plain freaky!  
Chris was just about to rise when he became aware of the other presence in the room. He whirled around, startled that he hadn't heard a thing, and looked straight into a pair of almost luminescent green eyes. His breath caught in his throat and he unconsciously stepped back from the slightly smaller figure. The man smiled faintly, his eyes holding amusement, as well as something Chris didn't recognize.  
"Who are you?" Chris snapped.  
His brain screamed at him that he knew the guy; not by name but by appearance.  
Seven years ago...  
Shit! The man from the alley, the man who had saved his life! The man with the cat eyes.... who had seemed so familiar to him. Chris felt the tingle along his nerves, the same he had felt when the man had taken his hand.  
"Ezra Standish," was the answer, given in a soft, Southern drawl. "I thought it might be prudent to introduce myself to you first, before meeting any of the others."  
Chris inhaled deeply, trying to get his wildly fluctuating emotions under control. He nodded. "AD Travis told me some about you already."  
Another smile. "I know. I asked him to." The green eyes roamed around the room. "I note the absence of stakes, crosses and holy water." Amusement swung in the voice.  
"After what Travis told, it's no use, right?"  
The smile widened. "No, not really."  
Chris tried to suppress the shiver that wanted to race down his spine. "We met before."  
"Seven years ago," Ezra agreed.  
Okay, that confirmed that. But it didn't explain the weird feelings he had had. "Well, welcome to the team."  
Ezra chuckled. "Thank you, Mr. Larabee."  
Chris couldn't shake the weird feeling that something profound was about to change; in his life, in all their lives. Seven years ago he had run into this man once, he had saved his life, then he had disappeared. Now he was back and Chris knew a bit more about him. He wondered what would happen next.

* * *

The reaction of the team was almost like Chris had expected it to be. Disbelief, shock, questions whether this was a joke, and JD simply thought it was ‘cool’, which earned him a strange look from Buck. Josiah studied Ezra silently, looking thoughtful. Nathan’s expression clearly told Chris that the scientist in him was about to do some serious overtime.  
“I am serious, people,” Chris broke the discussion among his team. “Mr. Standish is a vampire and while I know that you want to ask a lot of questions, this has to wait. I’m sure we can come to terms with it throughout the case. Mr. Standish was assigned to us by AD Travis, who knows about his nature. If any of you have a problem concerning working together with a vampire, I want to know it.”  
There was a multiple shaking of heads. They were all looking curious, some a bit wary, but no one showed outright fear or disgust.  
“Why were you assigned to our team?” Vin asked matter-of-factly.  
“Because the man killed recently was most likely a vampire,” Ezra answered smoothly.  
“Would explain some of the stuff I found,” Nathan commented. “Blood in his stomach, undigested food in his digestive tracks… But I still don’t know what killed him. It looked like a stroke from the outside, but his coronary system was fine, as was his nervous system. No diseases, no illnesses.”  
Ezra smiled slightly. “There are ways to kill vampires, but few leave near to no traces.”  
“Okay… which ones?” Nathan wanted to know.  
“Judging from the autopsy report I suspect he was left out in the sun too long.”  
“Wouldn’t he crumble to dust then?” JD piped up.  
Another smile. “No. We don’t turn to dust in the sun. Actually, we can tolerate it to a degree, but it’ll deplete us. Seriously deplete us. Think of my body as a kind of battery, storing my life energy. Sunlight sucks it out, slowly but surely, and eventually we will collapse and cease to exist.”  
Nathan frowned. “Any scientific way to back that up?”  
Ezra chuckled. “I’m not an expert on vampire physiology, Dr. Jackson, but I have been told there are ways to test for that kind of method. You’d need a blood sample from the victim.”  
“No problem. And then what?”  
“A sample from a living vampire. Compare the two. An associate of mine told me that our blood contains a kind of… infection, if you will. Foreign cells. If you find them in the body of the dead vampire, he wasn’t killed by sunlight. If you don’t, you have the cause of death.”  
“I see.”  
The others had listened to the explanation in fascination. Like Chris. His eyes had been automatically drawn to the vampire, watching the movement of his lips, his eyes, his hands, noting the dimples whenever he smiled, the way his eyes could hold a silent amusement when talking about his kind. He let his gaze wander over the smaller body, the compact form, wondering what he looked like beneath those clothes and…  
Chris almost jumped out the chair, cursing, as he realized where his train of thought was leading. Hell, where had that come from?  
Green eyes turned to look at him and it was an almost physical touch. He tore his gaze away from Ezra’s, forcefully concentrating on his file.  
“What do we know about the deceased?” he asked, breaking the silence.  
“No ID yet,” Nathan answered. “He’s a John Doe. I sent his finger prints and photo out to the FBI, the CIA and assorted other agencies, requesting help, but so far, he’s unknown. The body was found in a motel room by the cleaning lady. She called the owner, who in turn called the cops. I got the body on my table because I was filling in for a colleague and because it was first considered maybe a suicide.”  
Ezra had opened the file handed to him by Josiah and his eyes widened as he looked at the picture. “I know that man,” he stated, ever-so calmly.  
Six pairs of eyes turned to look at him. “You do?” Nathan exclaimed.  
“The last time I saw him, he went by the name of Sean Millwood.”  
Ezra’s expression was kind of sad, but it disappeared just as quickly.  But for that brief, fleeting moment, Chris had felt compassion rise inside him, wanting to walk over and soothe the man’s pain. He caught himself short of rising from his chair, wishing he had an idea what the heck was going on with him.  
“He owned a hotel chain along the west coast,” Ezra added.  
“When was the last time you saw him?” Josiah inquired.  
“About twenty-five years ago.”  
“Oh.”  
“Do you know anything about the man?” Chris wanted to know, trying to regain his control.  
“Not much. He was younger than me, a European who had come to the States to find a new life, live his dreams. I think he was turned at the beginning of the 20th century. That’s all.”  
“Not much,” Buck sighed, scratching his neck.  
“I dare say not. But now that I know his name, there are ways to gather that information. There are more vampires in this fair city than you know, and they will know something useful in turn.” Ezra smiled. “I just need time to dig out the correct person to speak to, so to say.”  
JD snorted at the joke, grinning. Chris only had eyes for the smile, the bright green eyes, and again he forced down his racing pulse and yearning.  
“Okay people, we have a job to do,” he announced. “Josiah, Vin, take a look at the crime scene. Buck, get the file from the team that was first on site. JD, power up the computers. I want to know if there were similar murders in the area.”  
“I’ll need a blood sample from you, Mr. Standish,” Nathan said as they rose and filed out of the door.  
“That’s quite doable, Dr. Jackson. And please call me Ezra.”  
“Nathan,” the doctor returned the favor.

*

Ezra had never been so glad to be away from a particular group of people as he was right now. He had donated some of his blood to Nathan’s examination, had answered a few curious questions, but he hadn’t revealed as much as the doctor wanted to know. Ezra understood the scientific curiosity, but right now he wasn’t in the right state of mind to delve deeper into his existence as a supernatural creature. Right now he craved for a stiff drink.  
He had known from the start that this was a bad idea. He had told Travis that he would assist, but working directly with those men might not be the brightest idea. The Assistant Director had inquired what the problem might be, but Ezra had been unable to really explain it. And what should he have said? That those six men were, through fate, chance or whatever controlling power, the same men he had worked with while he was still alive? That they almost looked like them? That he, Orrin Travis, was just as badly a reminder of his past as those six men were?  
No, none of that would have done. None of it would have made any sense.  
Ezra sighed. Seven years ago he had first run into Chris Larabee. He had felt the electricity between them, had felt his body, and especially his soul, react to the other man. He had looked into the hazel eyes and emotions had sparked, crushing his mind, strangling his thoughts. He had kept an eye on Officer Larabee, he had followed his career as he had turned from Homicide to the CSI. His scientific background had added to his career chances and he had soon been approached by Travis to work for The Branch, which made use of his knowledge of Homicide and science. Buck had followed his partner from Homicide a few months after Chris had transferred to the CSI, working as a chemist for a year before becoming a member of The Branch.  
Ezra had noted with dread and mounting horror how Chris Larabee had assembled a team of men that were directly related to the regulators and peacekeepers from Four Corners.  
Now he was working with them again because his old friend Orrin had asked him to. They had little in common with their ancestors, he mused, except for their appearances and being a team. Who would have thought of Vin Tanner as a geologist with a knack for history, working a semi-scientific law enforcement job? Or JD? Ezra had smiled when he had discovered that the young man was a former prime hacker who had been caught and convicted when he was fourteen. Chris had hired him on under the restriction that if JD so much as thought of illegal hacking he would see the world through prison bars once more. Yes, they were different, but still somehow eerily the same.  
Lord, how stupid could he be? Why had he agreed? Of course, finding a vampire killer was important, but he could have done that by himself. He wouldn’t need the team, right? But just thinking about seeing Chris Larabee had sparked a desire he hadn’t been able to squelch.  
Now he was right in the middle of it.

*

Chris stood in the restroom, hands on the  sink, staring at his reflection. Not liking what he saw, not liking his body’s still rather violently emotional reaction to a certain vampire, he splashed some more water onto his face.  
Shit, what was happening to him?  
Chris wasn’t so much shocked by the fact that he was thinking about a man. He was shocked by his reactions, by the intense need he felt. He could deal with the attraction, but not the way it was racing through his veins, blocking out every rational thought, turning him into a wreck. This didn’t compare to anything he had experienced in the past; nothing at all.  
Wiping his face dry, Larabee exhaled slowly. He needed to focus, get a grip on his emotions. He was the damn team leader and he had a case to solve! With resolute steps he left the restroom.

Vin was still waiting for Buck to pack up his things, which was taking an inordinate amount of time, when he noticed Chris leave the restroom, stalking stiffly over to his office.  
“You’d think he’s love struck,” Buck commented, walking over to the younger man.  
Vin nodded slowly. “The ‘right between the eyes’ kinda one.”  
“Ezra?” the drugs expert hazarded a guess.  
“It sure ain’t either of us,” Vin joked, earning himself a snort from Buck.  
They walked over to the elevator banks.  
“Did ya see the way Ezra looked at him? The little smiles? Geez, dunno what it is about the guy, but Chris was ready to pounce him then and there,” Buck went on.  
“Huh, you noticed.”  
A nod. “I doubt any of the others did.”  
“Good for Chris,” was Vin’s only comment. “Think it’s serious?”  
“Define serious when it comes to a Larabee,” Buck teased.  
Vin chuckled. “As serious as Jo-Ann?”  
The other agent was thoughtful for a while. “Y’know… somehow I got the strange feeling it’ll be even more intense.”  
“And Ezra’s a vampire.”  
Buck nodded slowly. “Yep. Kinda weird.”  
“You believe it?”  
“If Travis said it, I better do, huh?” Wilmington shrugged. “You?”  
Vin looked thoughtful. “He looks like any other man I’ve ever seen.”  
“And the dead guy being a vampire?”  
A deep sigh followed Buck’s question. “Y’know, for now it’s a normal case with a few weird aspects – unless I see something that proves it otherwise.” A smile crossed Vin’s lips. “Whether or not he’s a vampire, Ezra Standish is someone Chris has to look out for. We might be in for a good show.”  
Buck laughed. “Uh-huh! He’s a challenge.”

* * *

Chris heard the knock at the door and was quite surprised to find Ezra waiting for him as he opened it.  
"Ezra?"  
"May I come in, Mr. Larabee?"  
Chris blinked at the man. Ezra Standish had been the last person he had wanted to see tonight. He wondered what in hell he might want from him. Only one way to find out.  
"Sure."  
He stepped aside and closed the door behind Ezra.  
"I was just having a drink. Wanna join me?"  
"I'd be honored. Do you happen to have Scotch?"  
"Uhm, sorry. How about Brandy?"  
"Brandy will suffice."  
 "Well, Ezra, what can I do for you?" Chris asked as he poured the amber liquid into a tumbler. He almost dropped the glass as he turned around to find himself staring into two, burning green eyes.  
"I am merely testing a theory." Ezra's voice was husky, holding a wicked undertone Chris could only describe as lustful.  
"What th..."  
This time he did drop the glass as Ezra's hand sneaked around his neck, pulling him close, his lips brushing over Chris's mouth in a featherlike kiss that quickly deepened, licking over his lips, tongue demanding entrance. Chris stiffened at first but realized with growing shock that he was reacting to that luscious lips, opening, accepting, welcoming - and enjoying. The moment he thought he heard himself moan, Ezra pulled away, breaking the kiss.  
"This theory." He smiled. "And it was just proven correct."  
"What the hell are you talking about?" Chris snarled, desperately trying to hide his reaction, his pounding heartbeat, his increased breathing, masking it with anger. It just earned him a lop-sided, mysterious smile.  
"It will reveal itself to you in time. Now you're reluctant, avoiding, denying. But," Standish lifted his hand, thumb carefully brushing over Chris's lips, leaving a fiery trace behind, a sensation Chris realized he didn't want to end. He closed his eyes, and the soft, honeyed voice all but dripped into his mind. "Your blood is singing, Chris, and it is singing to me, speaking of a need you will have to satisfy, soon. You will come to me, and then your blood will sing again, and you will scream my name when I sate your desire.."  
When Chris was able to open his eyes again he was alone, and only the puddle on the floor and the shattered glass spoke of the possibility someone might have paid a visit.

Ezra leaned against the rough brick wall, inhaling deeply, savoring the cool night air.  
What had he been thinking of?  
Nothing at all. He hadn’t even been thinking with his brain! Lord!  
Some body part of him had been, but to hell with it if it had been his brain….  
Ezra groaned softly. He had been driven by an inner force, most of it probably the alcohol he had drunk not much earlier, and when he had kissed those strange but still familiar lips, he had been unable to stop himself. Yes, the Larabee blood was singing to him, and something else called his name. He could only hope to one day hear it from Chris’s lips….

* * *

They were twenty-four hours into the case. It was rather late in the evening already, but JD Dunne was still hard at work in his cubicle. The light of the monitor was the only source of illumination and the constant clicking of the keys a steady sound. Now and then the clicking stopped when the mouse was moved, then the clicks turned softer as mouse buttons were pushed.  
The hacker chewed at his lower lip as he surfed through the web and entered the search parameters given to him by Nathan and Ezra. The others had left hours ago, but Dunne had persisted to stay and finish his work. If he could get the engine to single out the files he wanted, he’d have less work to do in the morning.  
That was how Vin found him the next morning. Tanner was one of the first to arrive this morning, having skipped a ride with Buck, who usually came in around nine when there were no urgent matters. As always he went into the small kitchen first, set up the coffee machine, threw a few bagels into the microwave to heat them up, and then walked over to his desk to check on mails and other stuff that always mysteriously appeared on his desk throughout the night.  
“Morning, JD!” he called as he walked by the computer room.  
A grunt answered him.  
Vin stopped, retraced his steps and entered the windowless room. “Damn, you been here all night again?” he asked, knowing the answer already.  
JD looked up, rubbing his eyes, suppressing a yawn. There was a collection of Styrofoam cups, an empty pizza box, snack wrappers and a nearly empty bag of gummy bears and M&Ms littering the work desk. Among the detritus were prints, notes, disks, and whatnot. It was the normal state of JD’s desk, but today it looked even worse.  
“Kinda,” the younger man now answered.  
“Chris’s gonna kick your ass for it.”  
“Not if I show him what I found,” JD answered with a wide grin.  
He held out some prints to Vin and the other man took them, running a professional eye over the collected data. He whistled softly.  
“Not bad,” he confessed.  
“Told ya.”  
“No reason for a night at the office, though.”  
“Well, I wasn’t alone the whole time,” JD told him with a shrug. “Ezra popped in for a while and he helped me with the parameters some more. He left about three hours ago.”  
Vin was still reading the files, nodding to himself.  
The others arrived by and by throughout the next hour and while Chris shot JD a dark look, he accepted the results of the effort with a smile.  
“Good work,” he commented, “but you’re off for today, JD. Go home and sleep.”  
“But…”  
“No argument,” the team leader ordered. “I want you awake and alert, not half dead and drugged to your eyebrows with coffee and chocolate.”  
JD muttered something, which drew a grin from Buck. “But I know the files. You could at least let me stay for the briefing,” he argued.  
Chris sighed. “JD….”  
“Listen to the man, kid,” Buck told his younger friend. “Go home. You’re not missing anything.”  
“All right, all right!” JD shook his head. “Oh, by the way, Ezra was here and said to call him in case we find anything.”  
“It’s the middle of the day,” Vin remarked. “He wouldn’t be able to come here for the briefing.”  
Chris nodded. “I’ll call him later and let him in on what JD found. Okay, boys, meeting’s in an hour.”

* * *

Nathan was perusing the file JD had copied before he had left, giving one to each of the remaining team members, and he was currently reading over the autopsy reports of the two additional cases JD had dug up.  
Paul Richards, not married, no family, collector and trader of antiques, living in New York. He had been the first to die two weeks ago. He had been beheaded. The body had been found in a warehouse Richards had used to store his goods. The head had been hidden in a garbage dump near-by. From the autopsy, Nathan could see that the medical examiner had found the same inconsistencies with the body as he had with Sean Millwood. The murder had remained unsolved, but several suspects had been taken into custody, and the investigation was still on-going.  
The other victim had been one Keith Sifakis, who had been just recently identified since his body had been found badly burned in a recycling plant outside San Francisco. Sifakis hadn’t been married either, no family had come forth, and for now he was a mystery death as well. There had been inconsistencies as well, but since the body had been burned to a near crisp, there hadn’t been all that much to go with. Still, the search parameters had picked up on it.  
Chris had asked Nathan to get the complete files from the two men and compare them in detail to their own body. Jackson closed the folder. Well, he expected the first file to be here soon. He had sent all the right authorization and while he wouldn’t get the personal effects with them right away, the emailed data would help. Everything else should be with him by tomorrow.  
Most of his work so far had been to determine whether or not Sean Millwood had been a vampire killed by too much sunlight. He had examined the blood sample from Ezra, which had proven to be quite interesting. If he hadn’t known what to look for, he would have dismissed the cells Ezra had described as a simple infection. Now that he knew, he had cultured some of them in his petri dishes. He wanted to examine them further in the future. Millwood’s sample hadn’t contained any of the ‘vampire cells’. According to Standish that meant he had been out in the sun for so long, his whole body had been sucked dry. He had died a slow and horrible death.

* * *

Vin looked up and down the street. He had never been in this neighborhood before. It was one of the most expensive stretches in this town and except for a case, Vin wouldn’t think he’d find himself here anyway. People were milling around, looking at the display in exclusive stores and designer shops, walking into restaurants where one soup cost as much as dinner at Joe’s Place, a small diner Vin liked to frequent. Ezra moved purposefully among the crowd, Vin following him silently, just watching everything with interest and a bit of wariness.  
Chris had called Ezra right after sundown, telling him about their findings, and the vampire had been over at the Clarion Tower almost right away. He had scanned over the files, frowning, but he hadn’t said a thing. Nathan had received some additional data in the meantime, but nothing had really given them more leads. Josiah was busy talking to the respective police departments in New York and San Francisco, trying to gather more information, but it all seemed like one big dead end.  
When Ezra had announced he would use his own sources, Chris had simply assigned Vin to him as a temporary partner in this endeavor. Vin had protested silently, shooting his friend a tell-tale look, but Larabee had been adamant. Even Standish had tried to get out of this partnership, but in the end they both had grudgingly accepted the situation. Thank god, Ezra hadn’t tried to dodge him.  
Standish was actually a very pleasant man to be around. The two men had started to talk, Vin asking the vampire a few neutral questions. He didn’t want to pressure Ezra into revealing more about himself than he was comfortable with and apparently Standish knew it. At least the little smiles had told him so. So they had chatted about lots of things until they had arrived at their destination.  
They stopped across the street of a night club. The Grotto, a tastefully arranged sign proclaimed. It wasn’t as flashy and colorful as the clubs Vin knew, but judging from the people cuing up outside, it was just as ‘in’. Ezra crossed the street and passed by the patiently waiting men and women. A huge bouncer nodded at the much smaller vampire, cracking what had to be a smile, then pushed back some of the wanna-be patrons as they tried to walk through as well.  
“Seems they know you, Ez,” Vin commented as he silently followed the other man.  
“Apparently,” was the amused reply.  
“Come here often?”  
“Not really, no.”  
They descended several steps into the basement of the house, hearing music and voices. Soft lights illuminated the stairway and the corridors. There were some really expensive art prints on the walls. Vin felt slightly underdressed and completely out of place, a feeling that increased as he stepped into The Grotto’s main room.  
“Damn, one bottle of water would probably ruin me,” he muttered as he let his eyes run over the wide expanse of the floor, the tables, the bars, as well as the live band. There were private booths, side rooms, what looked like a glass-ensconced pool room, a sitting area, and more.  
“Depends on what kind of water you order,” Ezra commented.  
Vin snorted. They walked across the room past the sitting area. Up close Vin discovered that the area in itself was partitioned as well, making it possible for a business man to make a private transaction next to a intimately kissing couple. As he passed by several patrons, Vin became uncomfortably aware of the fact that they were being watched. Well, he was being watched. Closely and…. hungrily? One particular man was singling him out with intense eyes, clearly offering, but Vin ignored the efforts. Still, it unnerved him.  
“Is it me or are we being watched?” he muttered.  
Ezra smiled again, eyes holding a twinkle. “They are checking you out, Vin, trying to weigh their chances of taking a bite out of you.”  
“What?” Was Ezra serious?  
Apparently he was, despite the amusement clearly written over the smooth features.  
“You mean they are…?”  
“Some of them, yes. Most of the patrons are human; some aren’t. Don’t worry, you’re safe.”  
Vin snorted. Right. Damn, he was glad he had come here armed, though he doubted that being with the CSI would pull much weight. And it wouldn’t do to create an incident at such an exclusive club because Vin Tanner had felt sexually harassed. Then again, being seduced by some vampire wasn’t high on his To Do list either.  
“Stay here. I need to talk to my contact,” Ezra interrupted his train of thought.  
They had arrived at one of the small bars, this one mostly empty. “Huh?”  
“He won’t talk to me with you there as well, Vin,” Ezra explained. “You know how it is. Just stay here. You’ll be okay.” Another smile.  
Tanner sighed. “Okay, okay. You’re paying for the drinks.”  
Standish chuckled. “If you insist.”  
Vin slid onto one of the empty bar stools, ordered a simple mineral water, which was served in a fancy glass with a slice of lemon, and then leaned back to watch the room. Most of the men and women who had eyed him had returned to whatever they had done before he and Ezra had entered, but Vin could see that some were still shooting him curious looks. If he wasn’t the only human here, why was he of so much interest? Or was it because of who he had arrived with? Ezra was clearly known here; enough to get immediate access to the club.  
Oh well…..  
He was startled by a presence to his left and part of him yelped silently as he discovered that it was the man who had given him such hungry looks. He was about Tanner’s age, his size, with strawberry blond hair and a day’s growth on his chin. Blue eyes raked over the CSI agent’s body and Vin felt something hot flash through him as those clear eyes met his.  
“New here?” a honey smooth voice asked.  
Vin cleared his throat. “Yeah. Waiting for a friend.”  
“You arrived with Standish. I saw you.”  
Okay, that proved one theory. Ezra was known here.  
“Yeah.”  
“Are you leaving with him as well?”  
That was a come on if he had ever heard one.  
“Yep,” Vin answered, finding it harder and harder to form clear words.  
“I could give you a much better time.” The voice dripped into his mind, lulled his senses, drew him closer to the other man, and Vin swallowed heavily.  
“Hands off him, Rev,” a gravely voice startled Vin out of his trance.  
Tanner blinked, feeling himself sway and he reached out for the bar counter to steady himself. To his surprise he was standing at the other end of the bar, far away from where he had sat, almost in the shadows, and the blond man was up close and personal. One hand was curled around his wrist and Rev had just raised it to his lips as if to kiss the soft skin on the inside. The gravely voice belonged to a larger, colored man, dressed all in black, with a piercing through one eyebrow. He was bald, probably shaved, and appeared to be in his mid-forties.  
“Fuck off, Luther,” Rev snarled. “He’s mine.”  
“I said hands off. He came here with Standish. He leaves with him. Untouched. You know the rules.”  
Rev growled and for a second, Vin saw the blue eyes flash with an intense fire, then they were normal again. Rev gave him another once over.  
“Screw the rules!”  
“I’m trying to save your ass here, Rev. If you touch him, your life won’t be worth shit. Now scurry off and find someone else!” Luther snarled.  
The blond shot Vin a last look, then glared at the larger man in disgust. “You’re just too much afraid of the guy!” he taunted.  
“No, I respect him, and so should you.”  
Rev disappeared in the crowd and Luther turned to Vin.  
“You okay?”  
“Yeah,” Vin managed. “What…?”  
“Don’t concern yourself with Rev. Just sit back and relax, enjoy The Grotto.”  
With that Luther disappeared as well, leaving a confused Vin Tanner behind. He returned to his still empty seat, his untouched glass of water, and tried to make sense of what had just happened. Rev had clearly come onto him, but for some reason or other, Vin was off limits because he was associated with Ezra. Damn, the man had to be important – or pack quite some punch. Vin was in no doubt about what Rev had planned to do. He rubbed his wrist..  
About half an hour later, while Vin was enjoying an all-female band that was really good, Ezra returned, looking pleased. The pleased expression dipped a few notches as he joined Vin a the bar, giving him a closer look.  
“What happened?” he asked without preamble.  
“Huh?”  
“Don’t play dumb, Vin. Something happened. Someone made a pass at you?” Ezra’s frown deepened. “One of us.” It wasn’t a question.  
“Nothing happened, Ezra.” How did he know anyway? Could he smell it? Was there some kind of invisible sign on him?  
“Who?”  
“Hey, no sweat, it’s okay. I’m fine.”  
“Who?” Ezra repeated, voice flat.  
“It’s all been taken care of.” Ezra turned to look at Luther, who had come up to them almost unnoticed. “You just relax.”  
“I thought the rules were clear,” Ezra ground out.  
“Yep. But some of the new ones just need to test their limits. Your companion is unharmed, Ezra.”  
Ezra’s eyes seemed to turn a more intense green more a moment, then he just nodded. “We’re leaving,” he only said.  
Vin emptied his glass and slid off the chair. They left through the front entrance, Ezra nodding at the bouncer again, gaining himself another smile, then they were walking down the street again to the car.  
“Ezra?” Vin tried to break the heavy silence. “Got anything?”  
“Lots of rumors.”  
“So?”  
“I’d rather just explain it once to the whole team,” Ezra rebuffed him, falling silent again once more.  
Vin sighed. Okay, let’s play it this way, he thought. He checked the time. It was just past midnight. Chris might still be up, JD would most likely be still up, and the others… he could be lucky. He pulled out his cell phone and dialed Chris’s number.

* * *

Chris looked down into the intense, burning green eyes, as Ezra reached up and pulled him into a deep passionate kiss. Chris gasped in surprise and Ezra's tongue brushed over his lips, caressing and demanding, searching and probing. Chris heard the whiskey glass crash on the floor as he found himself reacting to the kiss, returning it in the same fervent way. This time Ezra didn't break it but carefully pushed Chris down on the couch, landing on top of him. Chris moaned into the mouth that still claimed his, tongues dueling, as Ezra's hands wandered over his body, simply ripping the shirt apart and starting to caress every inch of exposed skin in a most tantalizing manner. Chris felt his heart pounding in his chest, his blood roaring in his ears and his head fell back on the couch as Ezra started licking and nipping at his neck, his hand slipping into his pants. He suppressed a scream when finally those talented fingers closed around his hard member and...

Chris woke up from his own scream, his body still shivering in the crashing waves of his own climax. He panted and tried desperately to get a grip on what he had just - dreamed? God, where had that come from? He had reacted to Ezra, okay, but he had thought it had come from the fact that he simply hadn't had a date in a longer time. The sticky moisture in his pants spoke another language. He was thirty-eight, damnit. He wasn't supposed to have wet dreams like a teenager. But he had. About Ezra Standish. And he had liked it, oh yes, he had...  
Chris moaned in frustration. He checked the time and found it was just past midnight. He had fallen asleep on the couch, watching a classic, and currently he was in the middle of a late night monster movie. With a sigh he switched off the TV.  
Ezra Standish haunted him, with green catlike eyes and a goddamn sinful mouth that all but cried to be ravaged...  
Chris groaned again. He needed a cold shower. Very cold!  
The shrill ring of his cell phone interrupted his thoughts and he cursed softly, detouring from the bathroom and snatching the offending piece up from the table.  
“Chris? Vin here. Hope I didn’t wake you.”  
“Something happen?” Chris asked, suddenly worried.  
“Kinda. Ezra found something. We’re currently heading for the Clarion.”  
“What is it?” Chris wasn’t exactly in the mood to meet the man right now. Not after… the dream.  
“He wouldn’t tell me. Ezra said he doesn’t want to repeat himself several times.”  
“Scratch the office, Vin. Get over here. I’m not throwing the others out of bed,” Chris decided.  
“Your call, cowboy.”  
With that Vin hung up. Chris leaned his head against the wall and inhaled deeply. Damn. What was he thinking? Ezra would come here, in his home, right after Chris had had a rather explicit, erotic dream about him.  
“Shit!” he whispered, then walked into the bathroom.

*

They arrived half an hour later. Chris had aired the living room and bedroom, hoping the smell of sex wouldn’t be as prominent as it had been before. He had showered and dressed in his trademark black pants and shirt, almost nervously awaiting his two visitors. Vin smiled apologetically as he walked into the house, closely followed by Ezra. The mere sight of the green-eyed vampire sent a jolt through Chris.  
Damn!  
He clamped down on his emotions and guided the two men into the living room. Ezra looked around, his eyes holding a slightly confused expression, then something lit them up. Chris groaned silently. He wouldn’t be able to… smell it, right? He had had the windows open for the last half hour, for crying out loud!  
“Had a nice time?” a low, throaty voice whispered in his ear before Ezra walked past.  
Chris swallowed hard, his color changing from absolutely pale to embarrassed red. “You want anything to drink?” he asked, proud to notice that his voice was steady.  
Vin shot him a grin. “Sure. Beer. Ez?”  
“No, thank you.”  
“Brandy?” Chris offered before he could catch himself.  
The smile that was directed at him fried several of his braincells. Oh gawd!  
“That would be nice.”  
Chris walked into the kitchen and got a beer out of the fridge for Vin, then searched for the bottle of brandy he knew he had hidden somewhere. As he turned, the bottle in hand, he nearly bumped into Ezra.  
“Let me help,” the vampire said calmly, but the expression in his eyes, the tone of his voice, had Chris’s blood rushing down south in a split second.  
Larabee felt gentle fingers brush over his skin, leaving fiery trails behind.  
“I hope that I was in your dreams, Chris,” Ezra murmured, then left the kitchen.  
Chris leaned heavily against the wall, inhaling deeply. Shit! Shit, shit, shit! Not good. This was definitely not good at all!  
Pull yourself together, Larabee! You’re a professional and you have a case to handle. Ezra has information and that’s all you want from him.  
For now, a tiny voice whispered, insinuating more.  
Shut up!  
Okay, so now he was arguing with himself. Not good either. Especially since he was losing.  
Chris left the kitchen, a picture of complete composure, and he noticed with some relief that Vin had sat down on the couch and Ezra was on the couch chair.  
“So, what’s the urgent news?” he asked, sipping from the bottle of soda he had gotten himself.  
“I went to talk to an informant of mine tonight,” Ezra answered calmly. “He had quite some interesting tales to tell. The death of the three men has rattled the vampire community throughout the States. You have to understand that there aren’t that many of us. We aren’t as wide-spread as the movies and horror novels imply. News travel fast because of it, especially bad news like the violent death of three of our kind, murdered by an unknown killer who hasn’t been caught yet. And of course, rumors have spread.”  
“What kind of rumors?” Chris wanted to know.  
“The most prominent is a personal vendetta.”  
“Against the dead guys?”  
“Either that or against someone they all three knew more than just casually.”  
At this remark, Ezra shot Chris another intense look and Larabee quickly took a sip from the bottle. Damn the man! He was high strung because of his dream already and Ezra knew there had been something happening here. He wasn’t helping at all!  
“Someone inquired about all three of the victims just before they were killed, too. I have descriptions of each person, but they don’t match. My contact said that one of these seekers was a street person who had been paid to gather information. She didn’t know who had paid her and she simply took the money after delivering the notes to a specific point.”  
Chris’s frown deepened. “Someone’s covering his tracks quite well.”  
“Whoever it is has to. If the community discovers his identity, he is dead.”  
“Anything else?”  
“My contact revealed the information that at least two of the dead have something in common,” Standish went on.  
Vin listened up. “Which is?”  
“They both had the same sire.”  
“Sire?”  
“The sire is the vampire who created them, who killed and revived them.”  
“Oh.”  
Chris frowned. “And the third?”  
“Unknown. I’ll try to find out if he belongs to that family as well.”  
Chris played with the half empty bottle. Some of the information was helpful, some was just good to know but didn’t get them any further.  
“So what we have is probably a personal vendetta, but it could be something else entirely. Two of the men are connected because they had the same vampire bite them and turn them into vampires themselves.” Chris looked at Ezra, trying to ignore the rising desire in his body. “And you are connected to one of them because you met before. Somehow, it doesn’t really clear up anything.”  
“No, but it gives us several leads. I was given a name and I will try and get into contact with the man. He might be able to tell me if the third victim was sired by the same vampire as well.”  
Chris nodded slowly.  
Vin stretched and barely suppressed a yawn. “Dunno about you, but I’m dead,” he muttered. Ezra raised an eyebrow and Tanner chuckled. “Don’t expect me before noon tomorrow,” he added.  
Larabee shot him a look as he rose. Don’t you dare leave Ezra here alone with me! Vin suddenly had that shit-eating grin on his face, clearly aware of something going on at another level. Chris snarled silently.  
“The sun will be up soon,” Ezra agreed, even though it was still more than three hours before sunrise. “I’ll better leave, too.” Passing by Chris, he dipped his voice and whispered, “But if you have different plans, tell me.”  
Chris closed his eyes, suppressing a groan. He would need another shower!

Vin couldn’t help grinning all the way to Ezra’s townhouse where he dropped the vampire off. Standish hadn’t said much in the car, which was just as well. Vin couldn’t help it. If there wasn’t something between Chris and Ezra, then he’d be damned! Chris had been practically squirming, unable to meet Ezra’s eyes for a prolonged time, and his face had sometimes gone through some interesting shades of red.  
Standish was clearly coming on to their team leader and somehow Vin had the impression that Chris wasn’t completely opposed to it. Heck, tonight he could have sworn that Chris was close to pushing Ezra up against the wall and devouring him. His friend was no stranger to a same-sex relationship, but he hadn’t been in any kind of relationship for a while, either male or female.  
Parking his car on his assigned parking spot, Vin yawned again. He would be glad to go to bed and sleep for a while. He closed the door of his apartment after him and headed straight for the bedroom, not even bothering to switch on the lights. He could navigate his apartment with his eyes closed. As Vin slipped under the covers, he felt movement from the other side of the bed.  
“Where you been?” a sleepy voice mumbled.  
“Out with Ezra. He went to see a contact,” Vin answered, already halfway asleep.  
A grunt. “Late night.”  
“More of an early morning. It’s three a.m.”  
The shapeless form beside him groaned.  
“Don’t you dare wake me,” Vin managed between yawns. “I won’t be in before noon.”  
A snore answered him and he laughed softly, then curled up beside the warm body and fell asleep.

* * *

Ezra entered his home after Vin had dropped him off and walked straight toward the kitchen, opening the fridge and pouring himself a drink. A not entirely alcohol-free one. Being a vampire with extended senses had its advantages, sure, but sometimes it could be a curse. Like today.  
The moment Ezra had entered Chris’s apartment he had smelled the remaining odor of sex in the air, no to mention the pheromones radiating from Chris himself, and he had known within a second what the man had experienced. It had made his head swim a little, and the images which were evoked did the rest.  He had decided to simply act on his instincts and he had wanted to see how Chris would react on it.  
Ezra grinned at he remembered how Chris had desperately tried to appear calm. He then had confused the poor man even more with the simple touch of his hand when he had taken the bottle. Ezra rubbed his fingers together, still feeling the tingle the short contact had left behind. He knew very well that he could get Chris Larabee within a split second, that he could have then man naked and willing in a heartbeat, should he just decide to let his vampire nature take over, seduce him.  
But that was not what he wanted.  
So, what did he want?  
Ezra walked over to the couch and dropped on it, sipping at his drink and letting his mind wander around. Bad idea.  
The combination of pheromones, nourishment and alcohol, combined with his current  state of mind made him relax and – damn, not again!  
The image of Chris Larabee, his hands, his goddamm vivid eyes, the way he smelled or how his voice sounded in his ears, not to mention the way these black pants tightened around his – oh shoot!  
Ezra sighed as his body reacted again,  heat concentrating on a certain point and his own pants were getting far too constricting. All the sensations he had picked up today,  the singing of the Larabee blood, the scent of the hard body he had felt melt into his own, the luscious lips he had tasted once and definitely wanted to taste many times in the future, the fantasies he had had, and the images of a certain blond haired man all blended into one, overwhelming him for a second as his own hands wandered where he would rather feel other hands. His head fell back onto the couch and finally Ezra gasped out his relief… for now.  
When he was able to open his eyes again he looked right into two, glowing green ones. The little black feline was sitting on the coffee table, eyeing him with a clear mixture of curiosity and doubt, ears flicking back and forth. She sniffed at Ezra, and purred quietly.  
“Not a word, Shawn,” Ezra murmured, exhausted. “Not a damn, single meow, you hear me?”  
“Mwrrt?”  
“Shawn.”  
“Mwrr.”  
And with that the tiny cat turned around, tail flicking a little, shooting her owner a last look over her shoulder that held the clear message: “Two-legs! Do something about it!”  
Ezra moaned and rose slowly, heading toward the bathroom. “I would, Shawn, believe me, I would. If I just knew what.”

* * *

Two days had passed and no new leads had been unearthed. Josiah had flown to San Francisco to talk to the investigator in charge of the Sifakis murder. The usual suspects had been proven innocent and word on the street, according to Detective Garrett, was that it had been an act of revenge, but no one said who might be behind the attack. The body had been turned over to the authorities to be buried. Nothing new could be gained from it.  
Nathan had gone to New York in turn, doing a similar job as Josiah, interviewing the medical examiner, talking to the neighbors and clients of Paul Richards. Nothing had been stolen from the warehouse, the apartment or the man’s antique shop, and there was no family to claim his body or his money. He was running against walls whenever he thought he had a lead, which soon turned out to be nothing but smoke and mirrors.  
“I don’t think people are afraid,” Nathan told Chris over the phone. “The neighbors didn’t really know the guy. He kept to himself and his shop was run by two employees who only saw him now and then, always in the evenings, when he brought in something new or claimed another piece because he had sold it.”  
Neither man was surprised by the odd hours. Richards had been a vampire; evening hours were normal.  
“I tried talking to the guy Ezra named, but he couldn’t be found. No luck,” Jackson added. “The ones I managed to interview are rather tight-lipped.”  
No surprise there either. Ezra had mentioned that the vampire community was spooked. While Nathan had come with the best credentials, no one would see him, let alone talk to him.  
“Josiah has the same problem,” Chris could be heard, sighing. “You best come back if you are done.”  
“I’ll catch the red eye tonight,” Nathan answered. “Already reserved tickets.”  
He really did hate dead ends.

* * *

Another forty-eight hours went by. In that time, Josiah solved his own case, smiling with a little bit of pride as he closed the file and dragged it from ‘open’ to ‘solved’, sending a copy off to the archive and Travis. It was a small victory, but their much larger case was overshadowing any celebration. Vin was briefly called to assist with another team, taking him off the Millwood case for a day. Nathan had his share of additional autopsies, filling in for a sick colleague who had caught a cold.  
For all the work they put into it, it was becoming more and more evident that whoever they were after, he was good. Buck had thoroughly gone through the evidence collected at the Millwood crime scene. All he had been able to tell was that the man hadn’t died where he had been found. According to Ezra, that had been evident right from the start. He had been killed by sunlight, so it couldn’t have been inside the motel room. No one at the motel could remember Millwood coming or going and it was rather hard to tell when he had died exactly. Vampire bodies decomposed differently, according to Ezra. Vin had gone back and examined the dust and other particles on the clothing and hair. All he had been able to tell was that the man had died somewhere out in the desert. He was still trying to narrow it down by comparing soil samples.  
The tension between Ezra and Chris had by now become palpable. Buck couldn’t say it was a bad thing that was happening to his best friend, though he wished Chris would get his foot out of his mouth and do something intelligent for once. In Buck’s opinion this intelligent move would be to confront his problem, namely Ezra, and solve it. Sexual tension was one thing, but this was way beyond mere tension. With a little bit more pressure Larabee would snap. Buck didn’t want to be there when that happened. It would be one hell of an explosion to witness.  
"Guys, I scheduled a meeting for tonight," Chris announced as he walked into the office.  
"What happened?" Buck wanted to know.  
"Got a call. A guy from San Francisco. Name's Franklin. He told me he knows something about the victims and could be of help. Wants to talk to the whole team."  
"That includes Ezra?"  
Chris nodded. "Especially Ezra. Franklin is a vampire himself and he knows about one in the team." He shrugged, clearly unable to make heads or tails of it. "I don't know much about this whole vampire thing, but obviously these guys have a code of their own."  
"Will he come here?" Vin asked.  
"Yep. Seven p.m.." Chris grinned as he saw the expression on Buck's face. "Yep, Bucklin, again. You should have gotten used to it by now, don't you think?"  
"If I wouldn't know better, I might just get the impression you're doing this on purpose," Buck grumbled.  
"Who tells you that I don't?" Chris laughed and disappeared into his office.

* * *

Exactly seven p.m. they heard the door to the conference room open.  
“Mr. Larabee?” the visitor asked.  
“Mr. Franklin, I assume.” Chris eyed the new arrival carefully. He looked like a man in his late thirties, with dark blond hair and gray eyes. Chris took the outstretched hand and shook it when something occurred to him. Franklin was a vampire, he had had skin contact with him and he felt – nothing. No tingle, no prickle. Completely unlike Ezra. He decided to store that information until further usage; now was not the time. He proceeded to introduce the rest of the team to Franklin.  
“Ezra will arrive soon, “ Vin said. “He called some minutes ago.”  
“I understand Ezra is your vampire team member?”  
“Indeed,” a soft southern drawl from the door interrupted. Chris noticed the way Franklin stared at Ezra, and he could have sworn the other vampire paled, if that was at all possible.  
“Ezra P. Standish,” Ezra introduced himself. “I understand you have information related to our current case of vampire murders, Mr. Franklin?”  
The man blinked as if pulling himself out of something and nodded. “Yes, I have. Important information I dare say. You see, all these victims were my – children.”  
“Your what?” JD blurted out.  
“My children. I – ah, made them, for lack of a better word.”  
Nathan shook his head, clearly confused. “You mean...”  
Franklin smiled slightly. “Yes. The relationship between a newborn vampire and his..  creator can be compared to that between parent and child, so those who turn a human being into a vampire call them their children.” Franklin gazed at the assembled men. “It’s a great responsibility to take someone to the other side, because the young vampire is confused and anxious due to his change. New sensations overflow his senses at first. The parent has to be there for him, help and teach him. It forges a close bond. I have four children, and it was a pleasure to watch them grow into their new lives. It is a horrible experience to learn they died. I gave birth to them for different reasons. No vampire creates another out of spite or without thought. To find out they were killed ... “ Franklin shook his head sadly. “Surely Mr. Standish could tell you more about the parental relationship.”  
“No.”  
Chris noticed the tone and frowned. He looked at Standish and almost took a step back. The expression in Ezra’s eyes was close to feral. Something was going on between these two, but he wasn’t able to put his finger on it. Franklin had looked at Ezra in a strange way every now and then, and Ezra had become even more reserved than he usually was. Chris had never seen the interaction between two vampires – hell, before he had met Ezra he hadn’t even known that vampires existed – but somehow the level of electricity was rising. There was a subconscious tension that was almost tangible. He didn’t know what was going on here. All he knew was that he didn’t like it.  
Franklin just looked at Ezra, perplexed, then turned away. “I’m ready to give you any help you require. I want to find the killer of my children just as badly as you.”  
Chris nodded. “You said there were four? Who is the fourth?”  
“She is my only daughter, Alicia. You don’t have to worry. I took care of her already. She has been warned and will be safe.”  
“All right. Which means now we just have to find the killer. Any ideas?”  
“Not the slightest, Mr. Larabee,” Franklin confessed.  
“Do you have any enemies?” Josiah asked calmly.  
The vampire smiled slightly. “Mr. Sanchez, I’m 175 years old. In that amount of time, you have your share of mortal and immortal enemies. Of course I have people after me, but they would be after my hide, not kill my children.”  
“Personal enemies? A blood oath?” Buck hazarded a guess.  
“Possible, but blood vendettas are far and few among us.”  
“Killer doesn’t have to be a vampire,” Vin interjected.  
Franklin nodded slowly. “True.”  
“Can you give me a list of names of who you think might be responsible?” Chris requested.  
“That I can do.”  
“Good.”  
Chris finished the briefing and the team rose, ready to get home for a good night’s sleep and then get to work at their case tomorrow. Vin nudged Chris, pointing toward Ezra and Franklin who had remained in their seats.  
“Think we better leave them. Seems they have something on their mind.”  
Chris nodded slightly and followed Vin out of the room. He had observed the man closely while Franklin kept on talking and he had noticed the mask Ezra wore strengthen. Whatever it had to do with the topic Franklin was talking about, one thing Chris was damn sure of: he didn’t want to see an argument between two vampires. The air between those two had almost been sizzling with electricity, like before a strong thunderstorm. Chris didn’t want to be present should that storm erupt.  
And something told him that erupt it would.

“Mr. Standish, could I have a word with you, please?”  
Ezra wasn’t so sure he wanted that, but on the other hand he was curious about the reaction the older vampire had shown when he had seen him. And he himself had noticed a growing unease at Franklin’s description of the relationship between sire and child, raising unpleasant memories of times he’d rather forget.  
The moment he had woken up and found himself surrounded by darkness, alone.  
The rising panic when he had tried to call out for someone, for Chris, only to find he wouldn’t ever be heard.  
The horror of the realization where exactly he was – and the terror of scratching and digging himself out of the coffin, out of the his own grave.  
The despair and grief when he had learned Chris had left Four Corners – and the reason why his lover had done so.  
And finally the growing hunger, the craving for something he could not understand, until he had learned the very hard way what he had become.  
Ezra Standish, blood-sucking, killing monster, at your service. Because that was what he had done the first time – he had killed. And afterwards he had become violently sick. Another thing he had learned the hard way: vampires could throw up.  
Nobody had been there for him back then, nobody had taken care of him, watched over him, taught or helped him overcome his confusion and panic. He didn’t even know how he had become a vampire. Oh, in theory he knew how his kind was made, but the last thing he remembered of his human life was a blade cutting through his throat – and Chris screaming his name. That was that. And now here he was, confronted with everything after such a long time because of  this man. What was it? What was their connection? Because there was one, however faint, and Ezra was reacting in a very strange way to it.  
“Mr. Franklin, what can I do for you?”  
“Excuse my curiosity, but I have the strange feeling we have met before,” Franklin answered slowly, studying him. “Unfortunately I don’t seem to recall where and when. Could it by any chance be in our former lives?”  
Ezra felt himself stiffen. “I’m sorry, I don’t exactly see your point.”  
The other man sighed. “Mr. Standish, you seem familiar to me. I know we have met before, and that it has been a long time ago. Could that be?”  
“Well, sir, I don’t remember seeing you anywhere before,” Ezra answered politely, reining in his emotions.  
Why was the other vampire making him so edgy? Then again, maybe it wasn’t Franklin. It were his memories, his time alone, the suffering and pain, the wish to have someone to talk to. There had been no one and he had fought all his battles alone, never knowing what should have been. Now he had heard it once again, there should have been a guide for him. His sire. But whoever had given him this second life, he hadn’t deigned him worthy to be helped.  
“Maybe you mistake me for somebody else?”  
“No, I don’t think so. I – associate something with your person. How old are you?”  
“154. Why is that of importance?”  
“Did you fight in the Civil War?”  
Ezra scowled. “Yes, but I was very much alive after that.”  
Franklin nodded to himself. “But you lived in the west after the war. Did you happen to wear a red coat then?”  
Now Ezra was completely confused. Obviously this man had met him before, in his former life before he had become a vampire. Ezra had stopped wearing that coat after he had been reborn, and not only because it was the one he had been buried in. Too many memories were associated with this way of dressing. He had abandoned a lot of things from his prior life. More than he had wanted to, but he had broken off all connections, burned all bridges, or so he had thought.  
But he still didn’t recognize Franklin, and that bothered him. Ezra had an excellent memory, especially when it came to people, something he had taught himself a long time ago and trained ever since. So a shot in the dark it was then.  
“Indeed I did, Mr. Franklin. So when did you visit Four Corners?”  
“Four Corners!”  
Yes, Ezra mused, he got him nailed. The other vampire didn’t exactly pale, but he was about to lose his composure.  
“You were the resident gambler!”  
“Among other things, yes.”  
“But you weren’t...” Franklin stopped, confused.  
“I weren’t what, Mr. Franklin?”  
The man had started to pace, frowning. “You were no vampire then.”  
“No.” This was becoming interesting. So Franklin himself had been a vampire when they had met, otherwise he wouldn’t have been able to tell the difference.  
“Mr. Standish, could ... would you be so kind as to tell me who your creator was?”  
Ezra inhaled deeply. “No, Mr. Franklin. Not that I would mind. I just don’t know how it happened. “  
“You don’t?” That appeared to surprise him. Franklin stared at him in what could almost be shock. “What exactly do you remember?”  
Ezra frowned. It wasn’t enough that he had to relive these memories every now and then in his dreams, now a more or less complete stranger wanted to know about them. Oh well… it had been such a long time ago… and he had dealt with a lot of his demons since then.  
“I can as well tell you. We were seven men protecting the town.”  
Franklin nodded, he seemed to recall that fact.  
“It was a shootout. Some miscreants made an attempt to rob the bank. We had them nailed when somebody attacked us from behind. I was caught by surprise and – killed.”  
Franklin had listened to him, expression blank. He closed his eyes. “Was it a knife?” he asked quietly.  
“Yes.”  
Ezra watched the other vampire with growing confusion, as Franklin turned away from him with a silent “Oh god.” He stared out of the window into the night, and Ezra waited.  
“I’m sorry, Mr. Standish,” he finally muttered.  
Ezra frowned. He hated pity. He had dealt with his ‘creation’ and he had come to terms with it. Of course, being told that his sire should have been there, taking over responsibility for the new-born he had created, didn’t help ease the emotional pain.  
“Mr. Franklin, I don’t see any reason for you to be sorry for me, for I don’t need any compassion.”  
“It’s not ... Ezra, you were reborn without a teacher. Your creator wasn’t there for you and you don’t even have an idea how it happened, right?”  
Franklin’s whole composure had changed. He was almost wringing his hands, something that didn’t become a vampire of his age.  
“I just told you so, Mr. Franklin,” Ezra answered levelly.  
“That is because you were meant to die.”  
The younger vampire stiffened. “Well, I consider what happened to me as dying.”  
A soft sigh. “Not that way.” Franklin still looked out of the window, his voice holding a faraway expression. “I can tell you how it happened, Ezra.  A man sneaked up on you from behind, cut your throat with a knife. He wasn’t part of the bandits trying to rob the bank. He was a vampire, as you might have figured out already. He considered you a perfect opportunity for a little – snack, and in a middle of a fight nobody would notice one more body. So he drank from you, but just as he dropped you, he was shot. Not a severe injury for a vampire, but some of his blood must have infected your body, spreading into your system through the open wound in your neck.”  
Ezra had listened to Franklin with growing horror and rising anger. There could only be one reason for this man to know all this: he had been there. Franklin turned around to face him.  
“Yes, Ezra, your assumption is correct. Not only was I there, I was this vampire. I killed you because I was hungry, starving actually, and not thinking straight. I never meant to create an off-spring. You were an accident.” He smiled faintly. “I was young back then, my sire was not with me... let’s just say I wasn’t exactly an obedient child.” He sighed deeply. “That makes you my first born.”  
Ezra felt like he was about to explode. He was facing the man responsible for his death, responsible for so much grief, suffering and dread, responsible for everything. And he was just standing there telling him he was sorry? That he was his first child? Should he be proud of that fact? To hell no, he wasn’t!  
“Do you have the slightest idea what you have done?” he asked icily.  
Franklin shook his head. “Ezra, I... truly, I’m sorry. If I only had known ...”  
Ezra erupted from his chair, eyes burning with barely restrained fury that sought an outlet. One hundred and twenty years had accumulated in quite a vivid and impressive display of one furious vampire.  
“How dare you? Telling me you are sorry? I don’t care about your compassion! I don’t need it! I don’t want it! You have condemned me to a life of darkness, have taken everything away from me that... “  
Ezra took a deep breath. This wasn’t worth it. The deeply rooted pain that stemmed from the loss of the only good thing in his life was nearly over-powering. This man hadn’t only killed him. He had killed his lover, his friends, his life. He had cursed him to see them die, to return to a grave and feel his soul shatter at reading the name engraved on the simple tombstone. He was the embodiment of his inner torment.  
“Mr. Franklin,” he addressed the other man, icicles growing from his voice, “I recommend you leave town immediately after you’ve accomplished your business here, and I strongly suggest you never come again. As you might have noticed, this city is mine. You are no longer welcome here.”  
And then he turned around, leaving the other vampire behind. Unfortunately he couldn’t leave behind what he had been told. His undead existence was a mere accident! An accident had caused all this, had destroyed his life, Chris’s life. It had incinerated their love, had burned their souls, leaving nothing but cold ashes behind.

*

Chris had stayed at the office, against his own best advice, against his every rational thought. His emotions were overpowering everything else. He had felt something was wrong with Ezra and whatever it was, it involved Franklin. So he lingered, keeping busy with meaningless tasks. Vin had remained as well, just smiling when Chris had glared at him, silently ordering him to go home. Tanner had ignored him.  
So when Ezra left the meeting room and brushed wordlessly past the two men, Chris immediately felt all alarm bells starting to ring. He dropped his empty cup of water and exchanged a look with Vin, who just shrugged. A glance at the open door showed him a rather stricken looking Franklin, and if vampires had the same range of emotional expressions, he was currently drowning in guilt and pain.  
“Shit!” Chris mumbled and ran after Ezra, who was viciously punching the elevator call button. “Ezra?”  
He reached the smaller man, who had his back turned to him, and touched one arm. Standish whirled around and Chris unconsciously gasped, backpedaling before he caught himself. Two very inhuman eyes glared at him, daring him to make that last step and unleash the fury and rage held under such tight control. Chris felt his eyes drawn to the burning emeralds, unable to breathe, aware of his whole body reacting to the danger – in a way he wouldn’t call normal.  
The elevator doors closed, cutting off his direct line of sight, and Chris fell limply against the opposite wall, his heart racing, his breathing abnormally loud in his own ears.  
What had just happened here?  
“Chris?” Vin’s voice intruded into his dazed brain. “You okay, pard?”  
Chris pushed away from the wall. “Yeah.” He ran a rather shaky hand through his hair. “I’ll be off now…” he mumbled, calling for an elevator as well.  
“Okay….” Vin gave him a critical look, but he didn’t say anything else.  
Chris allowed himself to sink against the elevator wall when the doors had closed. Shit! He had just looked into the eyes of a predator, the creature behind Ezra’s pleasant features, the handsome face beyond human, and he had felt… drawn to him? Shit!  
Chris banged his head against the wall.  
Damn the man!  
He needed something to drink.

*

Lou Hansen had been the barkeeper of ‘Nettie’s Watering Hole’ ever since it had opened. He knew a lot of the more frequent patrons, and some of them were close friends. When Chris Larabee entered the Watering Hole, he smiled at the blond man, nodding a greeting. He was surprised but not worried that the man was alone, that none of the others were with him. Oh well, maybe they were meeting here.  
When Chris stepped closer, Lou erased that thought from his mind. Chris’s expression told him in very clear words not to expect anyone else any time soon, if at all.  
Larabee was in that mood again.  
A pair of car keys was slammed on the bar counter and Lou winced. Ah hell…  
“The usual,” Larabee growled as Lou took the keys and deposited them somewhere safe. Then he handed Chris a bottle of his usual liquor.  
Larabee nodded, took the alcohol, and walked over to a corner table. Lou sighed deeply.  
Hasn’t done that in a while, he mused, wiping at the bar counter. Damn if I know what did it this time. ‘Specially since he’s here alone. Even if Larabee hit rock bottom, which he hadn’t done in more than two years, there was always either Buck or Vin or even both with him.  
But no one showed and by the time the bottle was empty, and Chris Larabee was drunk, Lou had resigned himself to that fact.  
“Cab?” he asked as Larabee stumbled over to the counter.  
“Yeah,” came the slurred reply.

* * *

Ezra didn’t need to look out of the window to know who was coming for a late night visit. Chris. He briefly wondered where he had the address from. Probably Vin Tanner. The man had driven him home and most likely mentioned it to Chris. And Larabee had obviously decided it would be a good idea to raise his courage with some whiskey.  
 “Ezra.”  
Chris stood in the doorframe, steadying himself with both hands. Not only a few whiskeys, Ezra thought, and sighed inwardly. Larabees! In some things they were all alike, didn’t matter what century.  
“Chris. Come on in.”  
Chris stumbled over the threshold and all but fell into Ezra’s arms.  
“Y’ said I’d come,” he slurred, “’n here I am.”  
And I said nothing about you being sober, hm? Ezra mused.  
“I ... I dunno what you’ve done to me, but I... somethin’s  happenin’  with me, Ez. Has to do with you... Cannot sleep anymore... “  
“Your blood has begun to sing, Chris. It is whispering to you,” Ezra murmured softly. He had waited for this moment to happen, but now he was not so sure it was right. Chris was drunk and certainly not knowing what he was doing.  
“Come with me, Chris. Let’s take you to bed.”  
Ezra grabbed Chris around the waist and easily helped him up the stairs. Sometimes it paid to have more physical strength than the ordinary human.  
“Bed, hmmm, good idea. Been dreamin’ ‘bout you, Ez.”  
“Really.”  
“Hmmm. Has someone ever tol’ you that you have a damn sinful mouth, Ez?”  
“Yes, Chris, I’ve heard that one or two times.” Ezra grimaced at that.  
Oh yes, he had heard it. Ages ago, another blond man had whispered it into his ears, while he had been laying in his arms, their bodies entwined and still hot in the aftermath of passionate lovemaking. But you’re not him, he thought, you’re definitely someone else.  
“Come on, Chris, you’re not helping here. Let’s get you undressed and under the blanket.”  
Chris murmured something inaudible but didn’t struggle against Ezra’s efforts to strip him of shoes, pants and shirt. The moment his head hit the pillow he was fast asleep. Ezra tucked the blanket around Chris and watched him for awhile, then softly caressed the blond strands and planted a gentle kiss on the forehead.  
“Later,” he whispered .  
Yes, this Chris Larabee might be someone else completely, but he had the Larabee blood in him, and with every passing minute it was singing louder and louder to the vampire, speaking of a bond that had been attached over a century ago. And as Ezra looked at the peaceful features, relaxing as the man slept, he knew he was falling again.

* * *

Chris groaned. The moment he woke he knew he had made a mistake. A big one. Thank goodness he found a bucket beside the bed, for there was no way he would have made it to the bathroom. Somewhere in his blurred vision a hand appeared, offering a glass of water and some painkillers, which he took gratefully. Then he smelled coffee and mug with said liquid appeared in front of his eyes.  
"Thank you," he croaked to whatever gentle soul it was that was providing him with the nectar of the gods. And it turned out to be just that, he noticed after the first sip.  
"You're welcome," a soft southern drawl answered.  
Ezra? What the...?  
"Ezra?" he managed to get out.  
"The one and only."  
"What are you doing here?"  
"Actually, I live here, Mr. Larabee."  
The true meaning of the simple words struck Chris. Did that mean...  
"I’m at your place?"  
"Indeed."  
Great. What else could possibly have happened? Wait a minute ... why had he come here in the first place? And was this... ?  
"Ezra?" he probed carefully. "That's your bed I'm currently in?"  
"Yes."  
"Then ... " Chris swallowed. Did he really want to know? Just thinking of some of the dreams he had had about this man lately....  "Where have you been?"  
Of course he noticed the amused sparkle dancing in those green eyes, the smirk around the lips... oh no.  
"Downstairs." Ezra said softly. He pointed toward a door at the other side of the room.  
"Bathroom. You'll find towels and a toothbrush in there. I'll be downstairs, if you need me. Take your time."  
With that he turned around, leaving a stunned and not quite awake Chris Larabee behind. Absentmindedly he took another sip of the coffee - damn good one - and tried to get his memory straight on the events that had obviously led to this disaster. From the state of his hangover he could tell he had had more than one drink the other night. Many more. And now he was here, laying half naked in Ezra's bed. Not such a bad idea after all - whoops. Better take a long shower. Cold one.  
Something moved under the blanket, and Chris almost spilled his coffee. It was warm, furry, gladly much bigger than a tarantula, and currently crawling up his legs - his naked legs! Chris threw the blanket aside and looked into two shiny green cat eyes.  
"Mwrrrt?" the creature asked and laid a paw on Chris's thigh.  
"Uhm, Ezra?" Chris called, looking down at the little black cat that appeared to be comfortable laying snuggled up against his leg, looking up at him with eyes that looked a lot like those of its owner. "Do you have a cat?"  
"Oh, did you just meet Shawn?" the vampire answered from downstairs.  
"Kinda. She's laying on my legs. "  
"She is? Good."  
"Good?" Chris echoed, voice rising a notch.  
 "Means she likes you. Just scratch her ears, maybe she'll adopt you." Amusement swung in Standish’s voice.  
Chris wasn't quite sure if he wanted to be adopted by a tiny little, black cat with huge green eyes; on the other hand - that cute little one was irresistible, he mused, as his hand wandered behind the cat's ear and started scratching almost on its own. Chris was rewarded with a loud purr, that ran through the whole body of that little cat while her eyes were half closed. Obviously she was enjoying it.  
"Shawn, hm?"  he murmured.  
"Mwrrrrrrrr," the cat agreed.  
"Didn't know vampires have cats." On the other hand, what did he know about vampires?  
"Meeeow," Shawn suggested.  
"Quite right. Not that much, isn't it? At least I didn't know a vampire could be that - ah hell, what am I doing here, talking to a cat like that?"  
"Mwrrt!"  
"Excuse me?"  
"Mwrrrt!" Shawn insisted and started licking his hand.  
"Oh, really? Well, little one, I for my part want to take a shower now. Wanna join me there?"  
"Mwweeew!" Shawn flicked her tail.  
"I thought as much."

*

When Chris stepped out of the bathroom, clean shaven and sobered up, he went looking for Ezra. He stumbled over Shawn instead. The little cat was sitting on the bed and somehow Chris had the feeling she was waiting for him.  
"Mwe-eeew," she announced, while watching him intently, tail flicking a little.  
"Don't you get any ideas. I'm not a plaything." Chris smiled while getting dressed.  
Shawn made a sound that somehow gave him the impression of an "are you sure?"  
"Hell yes, I am."  
"Mwrr," Shawn doubted, pushing her head against Chris's hand in a clear request.  
"You really like that, hm?" Chris murmured as he sat down on the bed and started another scratching session.  
"What about the owner?" a soft voice from behind startled Chris.  
"Uhm ... hi, Ez," he stammered.  
"Finally awake?" Ezra approached Chris, smiling faintly. Chris swallowed as he felt his blood rush down south again. Damn if he knew what that man was doing to him!  He watched Ezra coming closer, looked into the burning green eyes, his gaze wandering over the vampire's well-built body, noticing the sudden dryness in his throat. Just watching the man walk awoke those feelings inside him. All of a sudden Chris knew that he had to get away from here at once or not at all.  
"Listen, Ez," he stuttered and grabbed his jacket while heading toward the door, "sorry for disturbing you yesterday and all, thanks for the coffee. See you at the office."  
Ezra smiled, half sadly, half amusedly at the slam of the door. Did Chris think he was the only one with this problem? That Ezra was playing with him? But the truth was, the vampire was facing the same aching need, desire, want, and more, as Chris did.  
He sat down on the bed, looked at Shawn, and started to scratch her behind the ears. "Are you thinking what I'm thinking?"  
"Mrroww," Shawn agreed.  
"Yes, me too. I just wonder how long that will last."  
"Mwrrrrr," the little cat purred reassuringly.

* * *

Chris had gone home – after walking aimlessly around the city, trying to clear his head. The problem was, his head was rather clear on what should be and what could be, as well as what he shouldn’t have done – but had. It was the more southern part of his body that was currently posing the more severe problem. No amount of work-related thoughts, cold showers and walking helped. In the end Chris did the only thing he could: he helped himself.  
Haven’t done that since my teenage years, he thought as he lay back in the comfortable chair, biting his lower lip. His heartbeat was thundering in his ears. Then again, he hadn’t felt as hot and bothered since then either.  
Chris groaned softly, still seeing his fantasy in front of his inner eye. Ezra Standish. Naked. With him. Their lips meeting, their bodies entwined, his hands seeking out his hardness…. He had come right there and then, feeling only a little bit better. His body had found relief, but his mind was screaming at him that it was the cheap solution. He could have the real thing if he only let himself be.  
Chris swallowed hard. If he let go…. If he allowed himself to lose control and turn his actions over to instinct. But a part of him rebelled against it. Why, he had no idea.  
He cleaned himself up under the shower, letting the water pound some sense back into him, but like everything else, it was of little help. Larabee knew that as long as the vampire was around, he wouldn’t get any peace of mind. And even if Ezra Standish disappeared out of his life, he might never be rid of the green-eyed man.  
“Damn,” he whispered in the emptiness of his bathroom. “Damn, damn, damn.”

* * *

Vin looked at Buck, and Buck glanced over to Vin as both of them watched their boss and friend walk around the office like a sleepwalker. Chris had come into the office this morning with an almost inaudible grunt that doubled as a 'good morning' greeting and had rushed into his own office the very next second. He had only shown up to get a cup of coffee or a file. Well, one would hardly call what Chris had done ‘asking’, and they had to admit they had begun to worry about him.  
It was crystal clear to both of them that there was something going on between Ezra and Chris, and that this 'something' was already starting to influence their work.  
"Are you seeing what I am seeing?" Vin muttered as he sat down on Buck's desk.  
"Hm-hm." Buck looked after the form of Chris disappearing in his office once again.  
"I don't know what happened yesterday after I left. Man was acting strange. Thinking about it, " Vin mused and recalled the events of the last evening, "something was really wrong with Ezra. I mean, I don't know exactly how an angry vampire looks, but Ezra gave me a real good impression yesterday. Maybe that spooked Chris?"  
"Maybe," Buck thought about it, "but I don't believe that’s it. If I ever saw two guys being attracted to one another, I dare say they match that."  
"Think we should do something about it?"  
"Do you?"  
Vin looked into Buck's eyes and smiled warmly. "Definitely. I for my part have a favor to return."  
Buck frowned. "To whom?"  
"To Chris."  
With that and a meaningful look he slid off the desk and headed toward the door.  
"What favor? What do you... Tanner... what the heck do you mean with that? Tanner! Wait for me, goddammit."  
"Just follow me... "

* * *

Chris glanced at the clock on his desk when he noticed that it was already dark outside. He had come to work this morning, rushing past his colleagues with only a grunt, and slammed the office door behind him, glad he had a place to hide. In the hours he had been cooped up inside his office, he had read through every report there was on the Millwood case. Vin had come back with a list of places that matched the soil sample, one of them being Dead Man’s Gulch, a very dry and inhospitable spot out in the desert. He would drive out there with Josiah to take samples and have a look around. Chris had only nodded. Whatever.  
He wished this case would already be solved, wished his life would be the same as it had been before meeting a certain chestnut-haired vampire with burning green eyes that seemed to be able to look right into his soul - and beyond. Chris moaned in frustration as he felt the familiar feeling again that always appeared when simply thinking of Ezra Standish.  
Damn that man!  
In an attempt to wipe the thoughts out of his mind he leaned his head back against his chair and squeezed his eyes shut - which turned out to be a mistake as the images only became clearer, the feelings rushing through his veins more explicitly. Chris gritted his teeth as he felt his pants become tighter by the minute. Damn, damn, damn! This was getting far too embarrassing for his taste. Maybe another visit to the restroom...  
"Chris?"  
Damn, now he was even beginning to fantasize about the man's soft drawl... like warm honey, dripping over his body - and licked off by a talented tongue ...  
"Chris?"  
Chris's eyes flew open as he realized he had indeed heard the man - and found himself watched intently while Ezra was standing in the door, green eyes raking over his body. The slight smile told him Ezra was completely aware of his current state. If the man hadn't been already dead Chris would have killed him then and there! He skipped every thought of violence as his gaze was caught by the vampire's vivid eyes; honestly, he skipped every coherent thought at all. He watched the other move toward him, slowly letting his eyes wander over the compact frame, mesmerized by the grace of the slow movements. As Ezra closed the distance his skin prickled as if the air between them was charged with electrical energy.  
His heartbeat was pounding in his ears and he held his breath as the vampire slowly reached out for him, attempting to let his hand touch his body, finally giving in to the need he had suppressed for such a long time now, longing for the touch he all but craved, as — the door to the office was opened and a female voice uttering, "'scuse me, didn't know anybody's still working. I’ll come back later," shattered the magic moment into tiny little pieces. Reality had hit in the form of the cleaning lady - and reality seemed to wield a sledge hammer! Goddammit!

Ezra had turned around the second the door had been opened and was now fighting hard to regain his composure. He had read something in Chris's eyes, had known that Chris wouldn't deny him now, and he was drawn to the man like a moth to the flame. Every single one of his senses had been stretched to its limit. He had heard the man's heartbeat, had felt the heat of the other body, and had been able to sense the readiness that was radiating from Chris. All that had almost set his body on fire, had lit the flame of his own need that he hadn't been able to fulfill for more than a hundred years. The sensations had danced over his skin like a physical touch as he had walked over to the man in the chair, who looked at him from hazel eyes which reflected the same unrestrained need he knew he felt himself. He had stretched out his hand in slow motion to finally touch him, to ...  and then –  
Ezra had almost screamed in frustration and unfulfilled need as the door had been opened. The magic moment was gone - again. And Ezra had no idea if he would get another chance – ever again.  
He heard Chris clear his throat, and turned his head a little to watch the man from the corner of his eyes. Chris had regained his composure as well and was now sitting at his desk, all businesslike again. The vampire sighed inwardly at that. A part of his mind wished this case would end, another part didn't, because that gave him at least some excuse to see the man he had fallen for so deeply.  
"What did you come here for, Ezra?" Chris's flatly uttered question pulled him out of his thoughts.

Chris had sworn inwardly as the cleaning lady had closed the door from the outside again and he had noticed Ezra had turned his back on him. A part of him regretted the passed opportunity, another one almost screamed in relief. What could have happened...  
He was a professional, for goodness sake! On the other hand - what could have happened? The mere thought made his groin stir again, and he fought hard to push the feeling aside.  
He cleared his throat. "What did you come here for, Ezra?" he asked flatly.  
"Actually, I have an idea on how to find our killer," Ezra answered, voice calm and composed, all business again as well.  
 “Which is?”  
“We need some kind of bait. Someone the killer just can’t resist.”  
Chris looked thoughtful. “Sounds logical. Unfortunately this Alicia has already been brought to safety and I doubt we could simply ask her to play bait.”  
“Not quite what I had in mind anyway,” Ezra said softly.  
“What are you talking about?”  
“There is another possibility. Me.”  
“You?” Chris blurted.  
A sad smile. “Indeed. As it turns out Mr. Franklin has one prodigal son he wasn’t aware of.”  
Larabee frowned. “Who?”  
Ezra’s smile stayed and he tilted his head.  
“You?!” Chris repeated again, staring at the vampire, open-mouthed, clearly shocked.  
“Yes.”  
“I don’t like it, Ezra. The killer has already gotten three of you. Guy is good.” Larabee shook his head, lips a thin line.  
“Chris, the others probably didn’t know about the threat, I do. And I believe,” Ezra shot a gold-flashed smile at Chris, which made his blood boil, “I have someone watching over me.”  
“It’s you funeral,” Chris grumbled.  
By the twinkle in Ezra’s eyes he was convinced the vampire knew only too well what his smile had just caused. And he was enjoying every single second of it. Damn that man!

* * *

Despite his misgivings about the plan, Chris had called in a team meeting.  
"Okay, Ezra, what do you have in mind? We don’t know whether the killer is human or vampire, or whatever deeper reason he has for killing Franklin's children. What makes you think he will try to take you out? And how will he get the information that you are child #5?"  
"Believe me, that information he will get; there are ways to make sure of that. Whether he is vampire or human is of minor interest for that. I know whom to tell to make sure information is spread throughout the community."  
"And then we wait?"  
Ezra smiled. "I once overheard a story of a man hunting down a mountain lion for seven days that used to kill his flock, not aware of the fact that the mountain lion was behind him, hunting him. The man learned from that experience the next time he saw himself confronted with an animal to hunt. I suggest we make the killer come to us, and we control the setting."  
"And that would be?"  
Ezra shot the other men a wide, gold-flashed grin.

* * *

“This is the most stupid idea I’ve ever been part of,” Chris grumbled as he let his gaze wander around the crowded room.  
“I didn’t hear you voice a better one,” was the soft drawl in his ear.  
“Ezra, shut up and get off the com line,” Larabee snarled.  
A chuckle answered him, but the vampire obediently removed himself out of the com circle that connected the three men currently keeping an eye on the proceedings.  
“JD?” Chris queried softly, hiding the movement of his lips behind his raised glass.  
“Nothing,” came the answer through the ear-piece. “I have a clear line of sight and no one’s even close to Ezra’s office.  
Chris had to swallow a snort. Ezra’s office.  
The plan sounded simple, but it was still dangerous to a degree, despite the electronics now keeping an eye on the vampire as he went after his business in the secluded room behind tightly closed doors. Whatever business that was, Larabee mused, not even wanting to know. Of course, Ezra had to have made some money and in his time as a vampire he had probably invested a lot. Keeping track of investments was a bitch as a ‘mere mortal’, but over several decades, it had to be even worse. When Ezra had outlaid his plan to use the office of The Grotto, JD had immediately started to make a list of stuff he’d need to install.  
Vin had only shot the vampire a questioning look. “And you think the owner of that exclusive club will let us hang out and wait for a killer to strike?”  
“I not only think, I know,” Ezra had answered, smiling.  
Well, whoever Standish knew and whoever owned the club, everything had gone like clockwork. JD had been in and out in a flash, placing all his bugs and miniature cameras, then outfitting the rest of the team. They had no idea when the man would strike, but everyone suspected soon. Especially since Ezra had leaked the additional information that he contemplated leaving Salt Lake City within the next twenty-four hours.  
Chris still didn’t think it would really work. Yes, they had their eyes on the office and the only corridor leading to it, but there was no way of telling if the killer would even risk striking here.  
“You must be new.”  
The sultry voice belonged to a young woman in a decidedly risky dress that showed more than it hid. She had short, dark hair, her eyes outlined in even darker colors, and her movements spoke of wild nights and fulfilled dreams.  
Chris tried to ignore her as she came up to him. “Not interested, lady,” he told her.  
She had been the first to approach him, despite several looks that had been cast his way. It was kind of weird to be eyed but not approached in any way. Chris had the strange feeling that he was wearing an invisible ‘hands off’ sign.  
“Are you sure?” she breathed and slid onto his lap.  
Chris felt the warm weight settle onto his thighs and while part of him was fighting the honeyed voice, a much larger part reacted quite strongly. He seemed to float in the warmth of her closeness, the intoxicating sensation of her hands on his shoulders, running down his arms.  
“You have strong hands,” she whispered into his ear, lips short of touching his skin.  
And then the warm, pleasant weight was gone. Reality slammed back into his mind with an unstoppable force, yanking him out of the erotic cloud he had been floating in. A growl reached his ears, followed by a feminine gasp. Looking up, Chris was stunned to see Ezra standing in front of him, hands clenched into the flimsy material of the woman’s dress, holding her tightly to the spot. The woman’s eyes were wide and she was making a strange, whimpering noise.  
“You must be new,” Ezra snarled, his voice a far cry from the pleasant Southern drawl. “Let me make the rules clear to you. Hands off.”  
She whimpered more, trying to evade the burning eyes. “I apologize,” she whined.  
Ezra stared at her a few more seconds and the woman cringed, then he released her all of a sudden. She clutched at the badly wrinkled dress and slinked off into the crowd. Some people were looking into the general direction of the small scene, but many had immediately turned back to whatever they had done before.  
Chris could only stare. Ezra’s stance was tense, radiating barely suppressed anger, and Larabee noticed how people kept clear of both of them. The vampire’s eyes suddenly fell on Chris, the intense expression fading into one that was hard to define.  
“Are you okay?”  
Chris cleared his throat. “Yes. Who… was that?”  
“Someone who doesn’t know the rules,” was Ezra’s brisk answer.  
The blond frowned. “She’s…. a vampire?”  
A nod. “She tried to seduce you.”  
Chris was briefly stunned, remembering the warm haze of feeling good, of wanting this woman with his heart and soul. A smile from Ezra let him sober immediately.  
“She won’t be back,” Standish told him firmly. “Neither will anyone else.”  
No one else tried anything, Chris thought. People only looked, but didn’t touch. “Because you say so?” he heard himself ask.  
Ezra smiled again. “Yes.”  
With that he turned around and walked through the crowd, back to the office. Chris exhaled softly and took a quick gulp from his drink.  
Because Ezra had said so.  
Hell, what was he? Standish’s property?  
Anger and a strange kind of warm feeling warred for dominance and he found himself looking at the rather handsome backside of the man he was almost obsessed with. Anger surged to the forefront. He was no property! And how had Ezra found out about the woman’s pass on him?  
The headset. The vampire was still listening in, despite his warning to stay out of it!  
Chris erupted from his seat and paced after Ezra, intent on giving him a piece of his mind or two.  
“Chris, calm down,” Vin could be heard over the ear piece. “I had a similar problem. Ezra solved it the same way.”  
Chris growled. “I doubt that,” he said under his breath.  
Vin had told him about the encounter at The Grotto. Ezra hadn’t come flying in and nearly strangled his seducer, warning him off in such a way that he had slunk away with his tail between his legs. The woman had been scared to death, if someone could say that of a vampire. Ezra had power…  
Chris closed the distance between himself and Ezra and was just about to call out when he noticed a man homing in on Standish as well. Instinct honed by years of police work sounded an inner alarm that Chris had never ignored in his life. It was one of his most dependable alarms, something Buck had jokingly called his ’spider sense’. This sense now screamed loudly as the man came up behind Ezra, blocking Chris’s view.  
“Ezra!” he yelled, lunging at the stranger.

Vin had been across the room, watching the crowd. He hadn’t been in line of sight with Chris, but he had witnessed some of the commotion from the place at the bar. He had to smile to himself as he heard the conversation between Ezra and Chris after the female vampire had disappeared. Yep, Chris was definitely ‘hands off’ and everyone had known it.  
Except that one vampire.  
He frowned. Yes, one of them had tried to become very friendly with him as well, but something, a kind of instinct, told Vin that everyone in The Grotto knew what Chris’s position in relation to Ezra was. Even the looks Larabee had received had been different from the ones Vin had been given.  
Except for the woman.  
Suspicion rose inside of him, but he didn’t know what to make of it yet.  
Chris erupted from his chair, growling to himself, going after Ezra. Vin sighed. Ah hell, Larabee, why don’t you accept your own feelings and Ezra’s in turn? You always make it so much harder on yourself!  
Vin doubted that Chris’s refusal of the obvious facts had anything to do with Standish being a vampire. The man was very much human in many regards, including his emotions.  
And then everything seemed to go to hell in a hand basket. Chris yelled Ezra’s name, charged a man in an elegant suit, and tackled him to the ground. People yelled and screamed. Vin pushed off the chair and raced toward where his friend was wrestling with an apparently much stronger opponent. Chris was suddenly shoved off like a rag doll, but Vin was on the man. Larabee quickly joined in again and suddenly handcuffs clicked.  
Vin felt something crunch under his boots and frowned down at the glass phial, which definitely belonged to a syringe. He exchanged a look with Chris, who appeared furious, then turned his eyes to Ezra. The vampire seemed shocked, but he was hiding it quickly.  
“Show’s over,” Chris called as he pulled up the other man, who staggered and nearly toppled them both over.  
Vin grabbed the other arm. “Let’s get him out of here.”  
Ezra suddenly blocked their way. “I want to talk to him,” he declared, voice firm and leaving not doubt that he wouldn’t take ‘no’ for an answer. “In the office.”  
Chris’s expression changed, challenging the vampire, but Ezra rose to the challenge and the two different eye colors clashed in a battle of wills. Vin sighed softly, knowing that whoever won, it wouldn’t be good for the developing relationship between the two. So he made the decision for them, shoving their prisoner toward the office. Chris shot him a dark look that Vin ignored.

* * *

“I analyzed the contents of the syringe,” Nathan told Chris as he leaved through his notes.  “It’s a highly concentrated extract of crataegus monogyna.”  
“In English?” Chris wanted to know.  
“Hawthorn, a rather common garden plant.  You might just have it in your own back yard. Usually grows in bushes and has white, very fragrant flowers. Hawthorn is also an extremely valuable medicinal herb. It is used mainly for treating disorders of the heart and circulation system, especially angina.  The circulation in the arteries of the heart increases, blood pressure is reduced as a result of the expansion of peripheral blood vessels,  the circulation through muscles and the oxygen supply in the body improves.”  
Buck frowned. “So it’s not a poison?”  
Nathan shook his head. “No, not really.”  
“So… why try to inject it into Ezra?”  
All eyes turned to the vampire, who had quietly listened to the explanation.”  
“Well?” Chris demanded.  
He hadn’t been in the mood for niceties ever since the incident at The Grotto. He was the leader of this team, damnit, not Ezra! Standish had gotten his will, had defied an order when he had dragged his attacker into the office and questioned him. They had learned little from the man. He was human, not vampire, and he had been paid royally for his services. The man had fingered the female vampire as another paid helper. She had disappeared already, but somehow Chris had the feeling that she would be found and questioned as well. The strange impression of Ezra wielding more power than he let on wouldn’t let go.  
“Hawthorn might be a homeopathic medicine, but to us it’s as lethal as cyanide to you,” Ezra answered calmly. “Injected with that amount of highly concentrated extract, I would have been dead within the hour. It poisons our body like sunlight does, only faster. It depletes us of our energy. Very effective.”  
Nathan’s interest was clearly piqued.  
“I’m not playing guinea pig, Dr. Jackson,” the vampire said mildly.  
Nathan had the decency to blush.  
"All right, like it or not, Standish, but this went down the drain completely,” Chris interrupted gruffly. “Killer knows you now, and I'll be damned if I risk exposing you again. From now on you are under protection, twenty-four hours a day. There will always be someone with you. In addition to that you’ll be under surveillance. There’ll be a van around to keep an electronic eye on things. Josiah, get me everything on the hired assassin. Maybe we can make a connection somewhere. It’s worth a try.”  
Josiah nodded. “No problem.”  
“I’ll call Travis and let him know about what happened. Meeting adjourned.”  
They all left the room to prepare for their assignment. All except Ezra. Vin shot Chris a brief look and then simply shrugged. He closed the door after himself.  
"I knew you care for me, Chris Larabee.” The vampire smiled.  
Chris groaned. "This has nothing whatsoever to do with you. I'd do that for every single one of my men!"  
"So now I am one of yours? That's how it always starts... "  
Chris groaned again and glared at Ezra, with no visible effect.  
Damn cocky, handsome, green-eyed...  
Goddammit, Larabee!! Get grip on yourself!  
Way down south, a nasty little voice whispered.  
Chris swallowed hard, aware that Ezra was still watching him. He wanted to push the other man against the wall, kiss him senseless, ravage that sinful mouth, hear him moan, feel his hard body under his hands…  
He caught the train of thought before it could become a runaway, steadying himself. I’m a professional, he told himself over and over again.  
And you professionally want to kiss the man into oblivion, the voice was back. Confess it.  
Yes, he wanted that. Badly. But now was not the time!  
When is it then? You had your chances a-plenty. You always ran away, coward!  
He shoved the voice back into the dark corner it had crawled out of and shut the door tightly behind it.  
“I’ll sign up a duty roaster,” Chris said, pleased to note that his voice was steady.  
The smile widened. “I’m looking forward to it,” Standish breathed softly, then left the office.  
Chris sank back, eyes screwed shut. Oh hell….

* * *

For the last few days, nothing much had happened around Ezra Standish’s townhouse in regard to suspicious activities. The team had taken turns inside the surveillance van, as well as in the tastefully furnished house. Chris had always found an excuse not to be the one in the house, but this time he hadn’t been able to dodge bodyguard duty. He and Ezra; in the same house. Gawd….  
He spent the first hours checking security, calling in on JD, whose turn it was to keep an eye on things, and making a brief perimeter check. He had done everything to be away from Ezra, almost physically feeling the smirk the vampire gave him every time he had come back, ever so briefly. Nothing suspicious caught his eye and he finally had no more excuses to stay away. As he entered the living room, Chris saw something laying on the coffee table. Something that obviously belonged to the vampire's past. Ezra hadn't talked much about his past, about his time as a human and how he had become a vampire, and Chris had to admit he was curious. He wanted to know more about the man, wanted to know more about the strange influence Ezra had on him every time he even thought of him. Being here, alone with him, in his home in the middle of the night didn't actually help much. Chris hissed slightly and pulled himself together. This was duty! Tonight was his turn to guard Ezra, might he like it or not.  
As he looked down on the photograph he caught his breath at the sight of the seven men. One of them definitely was Ezra, and one of the others ...  
Chris heard a short gasp behind him and turned around, face blank. "That is you," he stated flatly.  
"Yes."  
"And that?"  
"Your great-great-grandfather."  
Chris inhaled deeply at the expression he saw on Ezra's face. The vampire looked at the picture he still held in his hands, but it appeared he was seeing something - no, someone very far away. A century away, to be precise.  
"Tell me about him."  
Ezra smiled faintly.  
"He gave me a chance like nobody else would have. He was a gunslinger, and we met when he formed a team to protect an Indian village. Well," Ezra inhaled, "to make a long story short, he changed my life. And I - I broke a promise I gave to him."  
"What promise?"  
"To never run out on him again. When I ... went away," a false smile appeared on his face that didn't reach the eyes, a grimace of pain Chris hadn't seen before on the man, "it must have ... I don't know."  
Suspicion rose in Chris as he watched Ezra.  
"What was he for you?" he blurted without thinking.  
Ezra looked at him, directly into his eyes, hiding nothing this time. "We were together."  
"Together."  
"I lived for him." Ezra simply said.  
"You mean..." Chris hesitated, not really sure he wanted the answer.  
"Yes. I loved him."  
Chris felt anger well up in him. So it was that! The reason the vampire had woven his net around him... the only logical explanation for his own unusual behavior.  
"So it's him you see in me! Well, Ezra, I've got news for you: I’m no replacement! If you want to ease your guilt, fine with me, but don't use me for it!"  
With that he flipped the picture back on the table and whirled around, slamming the door behind him as he rushed out of Ezra's house.

Ezra stared at the spot Chris had stood only a second ago, still stunned about the man's reaction, and the slamming of the door still echoing in his ears. Then the words he had said slowly sunk in. It's him you see in me ... I’m no replacement...  
Was he right?  
Was it merely a replacement he was seeing, a way to deal with his guilt?  
Whatever, Chris Larabee had just left, his house and maybe even his life. Well done, Standish. He could as well have told him the complete truth... He felt something he hadn't felt in over a hundred years, a clenching in his stomach, a knot forming in his throat, and he did something he hadn't done in over a hundred years.  
Ezra Standish sunk down on his knees and clenched his hands into fists, as shock about what just had  happened slowly sunk in.  
He had lost Chris again.  
Hadn't he?  
Something warm nudged his arm.  
"Mwrrreeew?" Shawn wanted to know cheerfully.  
"You think so?" Ezra reached out and wrapped his arms around his little companion.  
"Mwrrt!"

* * *

Chris leaned against the door, clenching his hands and inhaling deeply, trying to digest what he had just learned. He had no idea why the hell he had reacted the way he just had, all emotional and obviously without reason. He pushed himself away from the door and walked down the stairs toward the street. Dammit, he had just taken the opportunity to shove the man aside, a cheap excuse to unleash at least some feelings on Ezra. It wasn't as if he loved the man, goddammit! It was all about pure and simple lust.  
Or wasn't it? a small voice in the back of his mind started nagging. Aren’t you in love with the man...? Chris stopped dead in the tracks. What the ....?  
"Chris?" a voice interrupted his thoughts and he whirled around gun drawn, before he realized it was Buck. Was it already time for Wilmington to relieve him?  
"What are you doing out here?"  
"Needed some air, Buck," Chris snarled, putting the gun back into the holster.  
Wilmington shot him a sharp look.  Chris didn’t like what he could read in his friend’s eyes.  
"That bad? Hell, Chris, don't you think it's about time you and Ezra..."  
Whatever Buck had wanted to say was interrupted by a sudden yell over the intercoms and a cracking sound. Chris winced at the loud noise in his ear. He had totally forgotten about the headset. They were normally switched off and JD would only activate them to alert the men on site to any suspicious movments.  
“JD!” Buck yelled. “What the fuck is going on?”  
“Fire!” the hacker screamed. “The van’s on fire!”  
Chris cursed and started to run to the position of their surveillance van. Even from here he could see the flames lick at the vehicle, charring the paint work.  
“Oh my god, JD!” Buck exclaimed.

*

JD had prepared himself for a night of boredom, but he still wasn’t about to take the surveillance task lightly. He knew what was expected of him, that Ezra was in danger, but somehow Dunne doubted that the killer would try it at Ezra’s home. He would know that the vampire was under surveillance and guard now. Anyone with half a brain would!  
So the small bomb under the car caught him completely by surprise. One moment he was zapping through the channels and looking at the night-vision images, the next he felt the van rock. Flames suddenly engulfed him, licking at the dark blue paint, heating up the inside.  
“Shit!” he yelled, lunging for the door.  
Buck was screaming at him, demanding to know what was going on.  
“The door’s locked!” JD panicked. Why couldn’t he open the door?  
His panic turned into outright amazement as the side door was suddenly ripped open by a massive force and thrown aside. He barely had any time to utter his protest as he was grabbed, thrown over a broad shoulder and rushed away. Dazed, confused, and slightly breathless he was deposited onto the ground. JD swayed and strong hands steadied him.  
“You okay?” a gravely voice asked.  
“Yeah,” he managed. “Who…how…” He gazed down the street and gaped. They were at least five blocks down from where the van was merrily starting to burn with more vehemence. “What…?”  
JD turned his stunned amazement at the man who had rescued him – and nearly took a few steps back. The guy was huge, dressed all in black, and the most prominent feature was the piercing through one eyebrow. And his eyes held an intense glow the hacker had seen somewhere else before: Ezra’s eyes.  
“You’re….” he stuttered.  
The man smiled briefly. “My name’s Luther. I’m a friend of Ezra’s.”  
Okay, that about confirmed everything JD had suspected. Whatever else either of them had been about to say was interrupted by a loud explosion. Luther whirled around and swore profoundly.  
Ezra’s townhouse had just gone up in flames.

*

Ezra looked down at the old photograph Chris had thrown onto the floor, worn and yellowed through the passages of time. He gazed at the image of seven men, dressed in the typical style of the new frontier America of the mid to late 19th century.  He couldn't help it, even now, after a hundred-twenty years it hurt. It was as if he still could hear Chris talk to him like he had on that day that had changed it all.  
"I want you here, for me, with me... at my side. For the rest of my life. Forever. Despite everything. I want you as you are."  
"I might run out on you one day."  
"I doubt that. You cannot run from me, Standish, I'll just follow you."  
"You have no idea what you're getting into."  
"Oh, I knew from the day I first saw you. I knew when you came back in the village. And I knew when we first shared a bed. I'm willing to take the gamble. Are you?"  
"You know I abhor gambling. I don't want to leave anything to chance,” Ezra now whispered out loud, the words still clear in his mind. “But I'm willing to take that gamble for once in my life. With you."  
For once in his life. He sighed. He had given a promise, made a commitment, and he had broken it.  
"I'm sorry, Chris," he whispered to the black clad gunslinger on the old shot, who was long time gone and buried but recorded on this piece of paper for eternity. "I wasn't there for you. But maybe I can be there for him."  
He touched the photo reverently, smiling sadly as he recalled the man he had loved with his heart and soul, who he had opened up to like to no one else before. He would always love Chris Larabee, the gunslinger. He would never forget him. But right now, he was given a new chance, and Ezra planned on taking it. If he hadn't already screwed it, that was.  
Standish sighed and Shawn rubbed her head against his cheek, purring. He smiled slightly and butted his nose against her forehead.  
“Is there something you know that I don’t?” he asked.  
Shawn’s reply was cut short as she suddenly laid back her ears and started to rumble softly, eyes fixed on the opposite wall. The vampire frowned, only too knowledgeable of his little friend’s moods.  
With an almost ear-drum shattering sound, part of the wall went up in a loud explosion. Ezra was thrown against the wall, Shawn still tightly clutched in his arms, and he almost instinctively curled up in a fetal position as debris rained down. With a rushing sound fire exploded into his house, quickly covering the crumbling walls and part of the ceiling, licking over the floor.

*

Buck and Chris were running toward the burning van, unable to see much through the flames and smoke, Buck yelling at the top of his lungs. A second explosion had them stop and Chris paled dramatically as he witnessed part of Ezra’s house erupt into flames. He felt something inside of him scream in denial.  
“Damn!”  
“Go get Ezra!” Wilmington yelled, panicking with the knowledge that JD was in the van – and that there was most likely no way out.  
Larabee only whirled around and ran for the house. He threw himself against the solid door, the impact jarring his bones, and he grit his teeth. He tried it again and again, but except for a whole side of bruised flesh, it didn’t gain him much of anything else. In a last effort he aimed his gun at the lock, aware that it was dangerous, stupid and something that rather worked in the movies than in real life. Stepping back as much as he dared, he emptied his clip at the lock, splinters of wood flying away. Two solid, bone-jarring kicks had the door fly open.  
Heat and smoke greeted Chris as he stared into the opening.  
“Ezra!” he yelled.  
No reply.  
Fear and desperation warred with logic and reason. Ezra was a survivor. He had lived for the last 154 years. Still, the ever-larger growing part of Chris that saw so much more in Ezra Standish yelled and screamed and raged, and it made the decision to dive into the burning house to look for the vampire.  
Chris calmed his racing mind and briefly went through what he knew of the layout of Ezra’s house, then entered. Around him, the air grew thick with smoke and hot with flames.  
“Ezra!” he yelled. “Ezra, where the fuck are you?”  
The spreading fire was like a predator, leaping for its prey; everywhere, licking and engulfing whatever burned. He could feel the flames, the heat searing into his lungs. Where the hell was Standish?  
Suddenly something appeared in front of him, a moving lump, hunched over.  
“Ezra?” he coughed.  
From under a wet blanket, a pair of watering green eyes tried to get a fix on him and Chris felt panic touch him.  
“Chris?”  
He wasn’t even sure Ezra had spoken his name over the roar of the fire, but he grabbed the smaller man and hauled him over to the door, their only way out.  
Chris had no idea how they made it, but suddenly they were outside, fresh air streaming into their lungs, and from afar he heard the sirens of fire trucks. Someone grabbed his arm, wanting to take Ezra from him, and he almost instinctively tried to fight it off.  
“It’s me, Chris. Buck. Calm down. You’re outside… Let me help you with Ezra.”  
He stubbornly hung on to his burden and Buck sighed, guiding them over to a safe spot behind some parked cars, out of theimmediate line of sight.  
“You can let go now. Chris?”  
And he did. He eased Ezra against one of the cars, still coughing.  
“JD made it out of the van,” Buck went on. “He’s fine.”  
Chris barely registered the information, but he managed a nod.  
“You two stay here,” Wilmington told him. “I’ll talk to the firefighters, tell them there’s no one inside.”  
Chris nodded, his eyes only on the weakly coughing figure of Ezra Standish, who was sitting heavily against a parked car. He touched the sooty cheek and ran a thumb over it.  
“You okay?” he wanted to know.  
“Felt… better,” Ezra managed. “Shawn…” He closed his eyes again, riding out the next coughing spell, then tried to uncurl.  
Chris stopped him, but became aware of something moving under the blanket the smaller man was still partly wrapped up in. He reached for the small lump and almost laughed giddily as a black head emerged, luminescent green eyes looking up at him. Ezra smiled weakly. Shawn crawled out of the blanket and started to lick her fur.  
“She’s okay,” Chris said, rather superfluously.  
“Good,” the vampire rasped.  
Out of the corners of his eyes Chris registered someone coming closer and he took a protective stance in front of the downed man. He didn’t recognize the tall, black-clad man, who was accompanied by a slightly rattled looking JD.  
“Chris, you okay?” the hacker queried.  
“Yeah,” he answered hoarsely. “Who’s that?”  
“His name’s Luther. He got me out of the van.”  
Luther’s worried gaze fell on Ezra. “Ezra?” he asked, ignoring Chris for a moment.  
Blurry green eyes looked at the man out of a soot-streaked face. “Luther?” he managed. “What.. are you doing… here?”  
Ezra’s breathing was raspy, often broken by violent coughing spells that left him weak and shivering.  
“That’s what I’d like to know,” Chris growled.  
“I was here to keep an eye on you,” the large man answered.  
Ezra smiled faintly. “’S appreciated,” he murmured.  
“I didn’t count on the killer attempting to take out one of your friends first.”  
“It was a diversion,” JD piped up.  
Chris nodded slowly, still standing very close to Ezra, feeling strangely ill at ease that there were so many people around the weak vampire.  
Luther looked at the firefighters, then at Ezra. “You’ll be all right?”  
“Fine,” was the exhausted answer. “Thank you.”  
Luther hesitated a moment, his intense eyes on Chris, then on Ezra again, returning to Chris once more. Larabee tensed. Somehow he felt incredibly provoked. Luther smiled all of a sudden,  then nodded briskly and disappeared. Ezra struggled to rise out of his sitting position, weakly clawing at the car’s door handle to give him something to hold on to.  
“Ezra, stay down!” Larabee ordered sharply.  
“I’m… fine….” He made it into a half standing position, then the little color his face had had left drained abruptly and his eyes rolled up into his head.  
Chris quickly caught the collapsing man, pulling him into his embrace. He laid a protective hand on the chestnut head and looked at the burning building. The fire was under control but not out. Even now it was clear that the house would be a total loss.  
“Chris, pard?”  
Buck’s soft voice drew him away from the sight.  
“He okay?”  
“I hope so. I think he overdid it when he tried to get up.” Chris wasn’t even aware of how close he held the unconscious man, how he gently ran a hand over the sooty hair.  
“Want me to call an ambulance?”  
He shot his best friend a wry smile. “I doubt Ezra’d be happy to wake up in a hospital. And they’ll draw blood and do tests, which wouldn’t be all too good for him either. I’d rather have Nathan have a look at him if necessary.”  
Buck nodded. “JD and I’ll deal with the officials. Can you get him out of here?”  
Chris experimentally tried to lift the limp form and found that while Ezra was heavier than expected, it was doable. Buck shot him a quick smile.  
“Okay, get out of here. Go to Vin’s place. you should be safe there. I’ll call him.”  
“Buck, what about the attacker?” Chris wanted to know as he tried to drag Ezra into the shadows, away from the scene.  
“He got away,” was all Wilmington said.  
He bit down on a curse, then Chris concentrated fully on Ezra.  
“My car’s around the corner,” Buck added, pushing the car keys into his hands.  
Chris nodded once.

* * *

Vin had already known what to expect. Buck had called him, letting him know of the attack on Ezra, the fire bomb, and that Ezra and Chris needed somewhere safe to go. Vin had agreed that his place was the best option and when Chris rung the doorbell, he was ready. He had laid an old blanket over the couch and removed the throw rugs from the laminated floor.  
Both men were covered in soot, reeking of smoke and petrol. Chris was supporting a semi-conscious Ezra, dragging him into the apartment. He collapsed onto the prepared couch, moaning softly.  
“He hurt?” Vin asked calmly.  
“I’m not sure. I don’t think he was burned. Mostly smoke inhalation.” Chris’s voice sounded rough as well, but he wasn’t falling into coughing fits.  
“Ezra?” Vin tried, crouching down beside the man.  
Green eyes cracked open, not very much alert if Vin was any judge of it.  
“Are you hurt?”  
“No,” came the soft murmur.  
“Good. Listen, we need to clean you up, get you out of those clothes… You up to it?”  
A barely perceptible nod. Vin looked at Chris.  
“You can use the shower at Buck’s if you want to. I think I can handle Ez.”  
Chris was reluctant to leave the man and Vin had to swallow the smile that wanted to emerge.  
“Okay,” Larabee finally said, none too happy.  
Vin gave him an encouraging look and the older man disappeared through the door to Buck’s apartment. Tanner chuckled briefly, then manhandled Ezra over to the bathroom where he stripped him quickly and professionally of the ruined clothes. He stuffed everything into a plastic bag and kicked it out of the semi-open bathroom door.  
“I can shower on my own,” Ezra protested, rousing slightly.  
“Uh-huh.”  
Vin turned on the water and maneuvered the other man into the shower cubicle. While it wasn’t exactly the most private way to clean up, Vin didn’t want to leave the vampire alone, just in case he collapsed again. Ezra managed to wash his hair and clean his body, though it took a while, his movements sluggish.  
“Thank you,” he murmured as Vin helped him into a pair of old sweats and a t-shirt.  
“No problem, pard. C’mon, let’s get you settled on the couch.”  
The moment Vin returned to the living room with his still not very conscious burden, he became aware of a small, black cat sitting erect and proud on the couch.  
“Well, hello,” he greeted the little animal. “Who are you?”  
“Shawn,” Ezra answered hoarsely, smiling. “She’s mine.”  
“You have a cat?”  
Ezra nodded as he sank onto the couch.  
“And you called her Shawn?” Vin continued.  
He smiled tiredly. “Actually, her name’s Shawnodese.”  
The geologist blinked. “Mouthful,” he commented.  
“That’s why I call her Shawn. She was named by her mother’s owner. She named her after the guardian of the Spirit of the South.”  
“Ah.”  
Shawn rubbed against the vampire, then turned to look at Vin. He automatically held out his hand to have it sniffed, then rubbed against. With a smile, he scratched her behind the ears. She started to purr.  
“You okay for now?” he wanted to know of Ezra.  
The vampire nodded, exhausted and paler than normal.  
“I’ll call Buck and see what I can find out,” Vin offered and grabbed his cell phone.  
Wilmington picked up after the third ring.

That was how Chris found them. He was clad in almost the same outfit as Ezra, taking a pair of sweat pants from Buck, as well as a sweater. His hair was still damp, but he looked worlds better, just like Ezra.  
Shawn looked up, meowed happily, and jumped off Vin’s lap. She twined her body around his legs, rubbing against him, and Chris smiled. He picked her up and sat down on the couch chair opposite where Ezra lay slumped back on the three-seater. Vin had just come off the phone with their agent on scene.  
“Buck will be here in an hour or so,” Vin told his team leader. “Fire’s out, but the house is a loss.”  
Ezra grimaced, but he didn’t say anything. He was almost drifting off to sleep anyway.  
“He handled the firefighters and police, telling them what they needed to know. We’ll hear more about it in the morning,” Vin went on. “You two can stay here for the night.”  
Chris looked suddenly reluctant, but Tanner knew that Larabee realized how stupid it would be to attempt to get home now.  
“I’ll stay with Buck,” he went on. “The place’s yours.” A small grin graced his lips.  
Chris sighed. “Okay,” he finally decided and ran a hand through the almost dry hair. “Ezra looks ready to keel over. We’ll deal with everything tomorrow. After a good night’s sleep. Travis has to know.”  
“By tomorrow, he might just know it already.”  
“Probably.”  
Between the two of them they got Ezra into the bedroom and under the covers. Vin feigned that he hadn’t noticed the almost tender gesture as Chris smoothed the blanket over the completely exhausted vampire.  
“You know your way around,” he only said as he grabbed what he needed for the night. “See you later.”  
And with that the door closed after Vin.  
Chris sighed and sank down onto the couch. He felt tired, but his mind was still too alert to go to sleep right away, especially with the knowledge that just a door away, Ezra Standish lay in a bed, alone….  
He let his eyes drift around the living room, taking in the new geodes and fossils Vin had acquired since the last time Chris had visited the place. He smiled as he saw the fossilized piece of wood Vin had bought not so long ago when the team had made a weekend trip to the Petrified Forest. Vin had spent hours talking shop with the Park Rangers and had finally come back to the waiting men, presenting them with the colorful, petrified piece of tree. Chris leaned back. The place was filled to the top with rock samples, fossiles and other stuff, among them maps, books and whatever else the geologist needed. He had a separate office, a small, cramped room next to the bedroom where he kept everything he didn’t have on display, including an old aquarium he had filled with sand and planted some strange looking plants among pieces of rock he had collected somewhere else.  
Chris had to smile to himself as he remembered the first time Agent Vin Tanner had worked on a case with him, Buck and Josiah. It had been a murder case out in the mountains. Aside from solving the case, the team had also been given a lecture or two in geology, and Buck had jokingly called Vin Indiana Jones Junior. He had then gone and presented their newest member with a hat that closely resembled the one in the movies. Even today it was nailed to the wall.  
A soft, plaintive meowing sound alerted him to Shawn, who sat next to him. She looked up out of wide eyes.  
“Hey,” he murmured.  
She insistently butted her head against his hand, then jumped off the couch, pacing.  
“Something wrong?”  
She meowed again, sounding impatient, then the cat sauntered off toward the kitchen.  
Chris chuckled. Of course…. “Well, I doubt Vin has any cat food, but let’s see what else is there…”

* * *

Chris woke to a soft purring sound in his ear and a wet nose pushing against his cheek. He cracked an eye open and smiled as Shawn butted her head against his cheek bone.  
“And a good morning to you, too.”  
Larabee yawned and got up, petting the small cat, which hopped off, mission accomplished.  
Remembering last night’s events, he sighed softly. Chris made up the couch and walked over to the kitchen to get the coffee going, then took a brief shower. He tried not to think of the man in the bedroom, the desirable body that had been in his arms last night, however briefly. Just thinking back to the panic he had felt, the sheer protectiveness when he had wrapped his arms around the unconscious vampire, wanting to hold him and shield him from the pain – it made Chris shiver.  
He had nearly lost him.  
That thought was even more horrifying. Chris sipped at his coffee. Only a few days ago he had been ready to confront his needs, his instincts, let go and take what he wanted. The moment had been shattered and hadn’t come back. Actually, he had done more harm than good in those last twenty-four hours, and he cringed as he recalled his harsh words from before.  
Movement alerted him to another presence and he discovered Ezra shuffling into the kitchen.  
“Good morning,” he greeted the other man, then stopped.  
Ezra looked like hell. He was pale, granted, but right now he looked decidedly gray around the edges. His eyes were a dull green that Chris didn’t like, and his movements were less fluid.  
“Ezra?” he asked, worry leaping in bounds. He approached the vampire, who slid onto one of the kitchen chairs. “You okay?”  
“No, I’m not,” was the soft reply.  
“What’s wrong?”  
A faint smile graced the pale lips. “I’m hungry.”  
Chris opened his mouth to say something, then snapped it shut again as the meaning of the words hit him. Ezra needed nourishment, but not in the form of bacon and eggs.  
“Uh,” was all he managed.  
“My supplies burned to the ground, I imagine,” Standish continued, sounding weak.  
“Most likely,” Chris heard himself answer. “Any way I can help?”  
For a moment the green eyes held an intense expression that hit Chris like a blow in the face, an almost physical sensation, then the vampire turned his head away.  
“No,” he whispered.  
There was a loud knock against the door frame and Vin poked his head into the kitchen. “Hey, you two!” he greeted them.  
“Morning, Vin.” Chris was still watching Ezra, mind racing.  
“Problem?” the younger man asked, very much attuned to Chris in so many ways.  
“Ezra’s hungry. He needs food.”  
Tanner frowned, eyes narrowing. “Oh. Any vampire delis around here?”  
Ezra smiled weakly. “Not really, no.”  
Was it his imagination or had the man turned an even worse shade of gray in the last minutes? Chris wanted to reach out and hold him, but he held back with an effort.  
“If you tell me where to go, I could pick something up,” Vin volunteered.  
Ezra looked up, an expression of gratitude in his eyes. “I’ll need to make a call first.”  
Vin handed him his cell phone and both men discreetly walked over to the counter, Vin getting himself a mug of coffee.  
“You okay, cowboy?” he inquired.  
“Yeah. Any news?”  
“Buck’s making his own calls at the moment. The investigation is running at full steam and we already talked to Travis. Actually, he threw us out of bed an hour ago.”  
Chris smiled wryly.  
“We’ll know the moment the arson specialists have something. There’s no trace of the arsonist, though.”  
Chris nodded. “Suspected as much. What now?”  
“Well, between Buck and me we thought it would be best if Ezra stayed here for a while, lay low. No one would suspect him here.”  
“Absolutely not,” a tired voice argued.  
Both men turned to look at the third, who looked like he was about to slide off the chair. Chris scowled.  
“I have places to go,” Ezra argued.  
“Places you are known,” Chris told him.  
“I can take care of myself.”  
“Sure. You can do it here, Ezra. End of discussion.”  
Vin smiled at the anger visible on the pale features. “Don’t worry, pard. I’ll move in with Buck for the time. No hardship at all. We’ll get whoever is behind the murders and this attack, then you can move back home. That reminds me, do you need to contact your insurance?”  
Ezra still glared at Chris, who was glaring back. “Yes, I’ll have to make a few calls.”  
“Okay. Speaking of which, where do I have to go?”  
Ezra scribbled down the address and Vin left, waving a quick good-bye. Chris looked at the smaller man, noticing the slumping shoulders.  
“Let’s get you somewhere more comfortable. Won’t do if you collapse onto the kitchen floor.” He was about to touch the vampire when Standish jerked away.  
“Don’t,” he said softly.  
The rebuff stung.  
“I can’t guarantee for anything if you are so close,” Ezra added, green eyes briefly pleading for Chris to understand.  
And the other man did. He nodded, giving Ezra the needed room, then followed. Ezra collapsed onto the couch, curling into a blanket. Shawn looked at her owner, then quickly hurried over to Chris. Her instincts told her to stay away as well.  
Chris stayed close, but not too close, everything inside him screaming to take the other man into his arms.  
“Chris?”  
The voice was so low, Chris barely heard it.  
“Yes?”  
“Please leave me alone,” Ezra pleaded.  
“Ezra, I….”  
“Please.”  
The chestnut hair was all that was visible of the vampire and he was curling ever more tightly into the blanket, shivering slightly.  
“Safer,” he added.  
“I can’t….”  
It was Buck who interrupted the argument, barging into the room. “Vin’s left to get Ez his protein shake?” he asked, grinning. The grin dropped as he saw the vampire, or what was visible of him. “That bad?”  
“Buck, please take Chris and leave,” Ezra could be heard.  
Wilmington didn’t ask too many questions. He simply grabbed Chris and pulled him through the door into the apartment next to Vin’s.  
“You heard the man. And you need to call Travis, Chris.”  
“Buck!”  
Buck stopped when the door had closed, expression serious. “Ezra knows what he’s doing. Trust him when he wants to be alone.”  
Chris opened his mouth to argue, then shook his head, sighing. “Give me the god-damned phone,” he snarled.

Ezra listened to the voices, but he couldn’t make much of them. The hunger was roaring through his mind, drowning out all other noise, trying to eradicate his rational mind. He needed food and he needed it soon, or the monster inside of him would break free. He was starving and instinct told him to take what he could get – even if it was human blood. He could smell it so close… so tempting, but he reined in his instincts, kept the monster behind bars.  
Vin, please, hurry…. he thought desperately. Please…

* * *

It took Vin over two hours to get to the address given to him by Ezra and back. A traffic jam caused by an accident accounted for most of that lost time. He hurried up the stairs and into his apartment. He only saw the shapeless lump on his couch and no one else.  
“Ezra?” he asked.  
The lump moved faintly. “Leave it on the table, then go,” came a weak whisper.  
Vin simply did what he was told. He didn’t want to argue, especially since he knew what was in the large paper bag and what would happen to a quantity of it. He closed the connecting door behind him, smiling briefly at Buck, then jerked his head toward Chris, who was talking to someone on the phone.  
“Arson,” Buck said in a low voice. “How’s Ezra?”  
“Guess he’ll be okay. Might take a while. So, what’s new with you?”  
“Travis called, got a first hand report from Chris, asked him about Ezra, and so on. He’s handling the police.”  
“Good.” Vin sighed and shook his head. “What a mess.”  
“I know. And we still aren’t any closer to getting the guy.” Buck looked frustrated.  
Chris got off the phone and both turned to look expectantly at him. But Larabee’s expression said he wanted to know about Ezra first.  
“I got him what he needs. He might be a while, but he’ll be over when he’s up to it,” Vin answered the unspoken question.  
Larabee nodded briskly. “Thanks.”  
“No sweat. It wasn’t the weirdest thing I ever did, but it comes a close second,” Vin grinned. “So, anything from Arson?”  
“Nothing much on the car bomb so far.  Looks like the every day normal explosives device. The one that blew up the wall at Ezra’s was timed. One broke the place open, then the cocktail was chugged in. The fire bomb was filled with a special mix that contained a fire accelerator. They’re sending over the data and I asked Josiah and JD to go over it, maybe see if something’s on file about similar bombs. We might be able to find our man through the ingredients he used.”  
Buck nodded.  
“Otherwise, Ezra’s house is a total loss. It burned out more or less completely. Some of the stuff inside might still be okay, but we’ll have to drive over and check it out.”  
“Buck and I can do that,” Vin offered.  
“Thanks, but I think you two better stay here and keep an eye on Ezra,” Chris decided. “I’ll grab Josiah and head over to the townhouse.”  
Vin was close to strangling his friend. Why wouldn’t he stay with the vampire? It might just help to clear the air!  
“Okay,” he agreed out loud.

Ezra appeared through the connecting door about an hour after Vin had arrived with his ‘breakfast’ and he looked much better. A bit tired, but no longer so gray and faint.  
“Hey, Ez!” Buck greeted him jovially from where he was watching a daytime soap on the couch. Shawn sat curled up on the couch back and she gave her owner a critical look, then gracefully rose to her paws.  
Ezra smiled at the two of them.  
“You feelin’ all better?”  
“Much improved, Buck, thank you. Where are the others?”  
“Vin’s over at the mall to haunt the pet store for some cat food. We fed the little critter some flakes in milk and all, but I doubt it’s her regular diet.” Buck chuckled. “She must be one hungry cat by now.”  
Shawn made a plaintive noise as if to second that. Ezra’s smile widened and he walked over to her, scratching his companion. She leaned into the fingers and purred.  
“Chris and Josiah went out to your house to see if there’s something left you might be able to use. Clothes and all.” Buck gave him a critical look.  
Ezra knew what he looked like. He had borrowed more of Vin’s stuff and it just wasn’t his size.  
“You didn’t have to do all this,” he said softly.  
Wilmington shrugged. “Hey, what are friends for?”  
Ezra felt strangely touched. He hadn’t known these men for long, but like over a century ago, he had become a part of their team without much fuss. It warmed him – and it scared him.  
“Shouldn’t you be sleeping?”  
The vampire smiled. “I think I slept enough.”  
Buck shrugged. “I just thought you slept throughout the day.”  
He laughed. “Movies, Buck. Nothing but make-believe. I neither own a coffin, nor do I sleep on my home soil. I’m not some kind of unresponsive, comatose body after sunrise till sundown.”  
A grin. “Good to know.” He waggled his eyebrows suggestively.  
That was the moment Vin came in, banging the door shut after himself. “Man, remind me why I hate malls?” he complained. “I think today was mother’s day! You couldn’t walk a step without a kid between your legs or falling over a stroller!”  
Buck snickered. “He’s not the shopping kind,” he remarked toward Ezra.  
“I figured.”  
“Hey, you’re up,” Vin called brightly. “Feeling okay? Need a refill?”  
“I’m fine, Vin, thanks. And there’s still enough to last me the week. Samuel apparently saw fit to give you a week’s ration.”  
Vin shrugged as he deposited his purchase on the table. “He told me that’s it. I never counted.” He smiled.  
“I, ah, put the rest into your fridge,” the vampire continued apologetically. “Just as a word of warning in case you want to get yourself something….”  
Tanner grinned. “No problem. I’m not that squeamish. If you once looked into a fridge full of fungus and whatnot, you can stand almost everything.”  
“Hey!” Buck protested. “That was only because the lab’s fridge was already piled high with Nathan’s probes. I had to put my experiment somewhere.”  
“In his fridge. Without telling me,” Vin said in a conspiratorial but still loud whisper. “The stuff looked like pudding and I almost ate it!”  
Ezra laughed.  
“It was an experiment for a case!” Buck grumbled.  
“Says he.”  
“Yes, says me. I’m not the one to leave his socks in the fridge.” He gave Vin a pointed look.  
“Anything to keep cool when the air-conditioner buys it,” was the only comment.  
Ezra felt himself relax in the strangely familiar atmosphere. A loud meowing from Shawn broke into the banter and Vin smiled at the cat.  
“You’re right, kitten, time for your first, real meal.” He grabbed a can and held it up for Ezra to see. “That all right?”  
“Shawn eats just about anything,” Standish answered. “It’s fine.”

The black cat followed Vin on the heels as he walked into the kitchen, rummaged around the cupboard, and finally deposited a generous scoop of cat food on a saucer. He returned to the living room and settled down on the large couch where Buck was sprawled on.  
“Can I ask you something, Ezra?”  
Ezra shrugged, sitting down as well. “Sure.”  
"All right, what is it with you and Chris?"  
"I don't have the slightest idea what you are talking about, Mr. Tanner."  
Vin almost smiled. Mr. Tanner, hm? Ezra hadn’t called him Mr. Tanner ever since their first meeting on this case.  
"Oh yes, you have. I’m not blind, Ezra. I can see what’s happening here. And I know Chris. The man’s running around like a headless chicken. I could chalk it up to being a vampire thing, but I haven’t seen anything like that happening to the others, or felt myself react to you like a horny teenager.”  
Ezra smiled faintly at the description. “Maybe you should ask Chris then..."  
"I'm asking you, Ezra."  
“And it might be an interesting answer,” Buck threw in.  
Vin watched Ezra closely, taking in every single emotion flickering over the face of the man in front of him. It was obvious that Ezra was thinking hard; the way he absent-mindedly clenched his jaw gave it away. Finally he seemed make up his mind.  
“This might take a little while to explain."  
Vin leaned back, giving Ezra a lop-sided smile. "I have time."  
Buck grinned. “Yep.”  
Ezra sighed and briefly studied the pattern on the couch table. "I know how this must sound to you, coming from me, but it is in his blood. The Larabee blood is singing to me, and I can't... I just can't fight it."  
"What do you mean, singing to you?" Buck asked, frowning slightly.  
Ezra stood and retrieved an old, now slightly singed looking photograph from his cleaned jacket. He handed it to Vin. It showed seven men, dressed in the kind of outfit that was common in the midst of the 19th century, America. One was dressed in buckskins, indicating he might have been some kind of tracker or hunter. He looked like he could be related to Vin, with longer hair, and a more prominent jaw line. There was also a mustached man who had a resemblance to Buck. And one - Vin inhaled deeply.  
"That man looks like Chris. And - that one, he's a  - gambler?"  
"I used to be a gambler back then, Vin. And yes, that man looks like Chris. He's his great-great-grandfather. Chris Larabee, famous gunslinger and leader of a motley crew, called the Magnificent Seven, the law around that town. Four Corners it was. It no longer exists. I haven't been there for more than one hundred years to take a look."  
"This is you?" Buck wanted to know, studying the photograph.  
"Yes."  
"And Chris's ancestor?” Vin added.  
"As you would put it - yep."  
Something in the other man's voice made Vin look more closely at him and he caught a glimpse of grief, of loss, in his eyes. And something else.  
"What happened?" he wanted to know.  
"I died."  
"I don't mean that. Before."  
Ezra sighed. "We were - friends."  
Buck frowned and looked at the vampire, then at Vin. He had noticed it, too. "I think you were more than that. Am I right?"  
Ezra's jaw clenched again. His lips twitched briefly into a grimace of pain, a false smile, as he answered, "Yes."  
Buck shot him an encouraging look.  
"I loved him."  
Vin had thought as much, feared he would hear something like this. But he kept his silence, hearing the other man out, waiting. He had asked for an explanation and he was receiving one. He had not asked for it to be one he'd like.  
"The last thing I ever saw of Chris was his face, his eyes... the way he looked at me and grinned his daredevil-smile. He enjoyed a good fight. As did I. I don't remember dying, exactly. But I do remember scratching my way out of the coffin, digging myself out of my own grave... to realize they had buried me. They wouldn't have done that if they had not thought I'd be dead. I was scared. It's horrifying to find yourself buried alive, or so I thought. But I was even more afraid of what my 'death' had done to Chris, and I ran as fast as I could. He wasn't in town, so I got my horse, which was still there, and rode as if the devil himself was chasing me. I arrived at his cabin, and I found it.... burned to the ground.”  
Ezra’s voice was flat, devoid of all emotions, relating the tale as if it didn’t even touch him the slightest. Buck and Vin didn’t have to be experts to know that it was far from the truth. Ezra was revealing a world of pain and desperation to them.  
“I understood immediately. Chris had lost his wife and son in a fire, and it had burned half the soul out of this man. To lose me... I knew he had loved me, but I didn't know how much. It had destroyed what was left of his soul and he had literally burned every proverbial bridge behind him. He had left Four Corners the minute my funeral had ended. This time not even his friends had been able to help him. I went to the saloon that night, unseen, and watched them, and I saw they would break up without him.”  
He sighed and stared at his hands. Buck was about to say something, but Vin stopped him. If they spoke now, the spell would be broken.  
“I realized shortly after that what I had become - a monster,” Ezra went on. “I knew there was no way I could stay, so I left. I rode all over the country, trying to find a trace of Chris, trying to follow his tracks, stopping every here and there, playing a game…" He trailed off, falling silent.  
"Did you ever find him?" Buck asked quietly.  
Sad eyes met his. "Yes. Twenty years later I returned to Four Corners. They had buried him beside me. I don't know what it must have done to them when they had found my grave empty and obviously ravaged the other day, my body gone, but they had restored it." Ezra gave a short cynical laugh. "I even got a tombstone."  
Vin felt honest concern. It was obvious Ezra had seen a lot in his time, more bad than good, and it had left marks on the vampire's soul. Soul, Vin mused, he had never thought of vampires having a soul, let alone a heart that could break. Hell, until a few weeks ago he wouldn’t have believed in vampires either.  
Clichés, he reminded himself, nothing but clichés born out of black-and-white horror movies. Because this one had a heart and it had been broken a hundred years ago.  
"I avoided the company of humans as often as I could, not knowing when the monster would want to come out and hunt. I learned as fast as I could, tried to get it under control, got used to - animal sustenance," Ezra added softly. "I won't say I've never tasted human blood, but - I can do without." He hesitated, then looked at the two men. “Do you have an idea what it did to me when I saw today’s Chris the first time? It was seven years ago, and it was only for a brief moment but...  I knew it then and I know it now. I followed his career, his life… but I never approached him again. I was afraid and horrified when I noticed so many similarities between my past and his future. He formed this team.. with relatives of the six men I knew in my time. Of course there are differences,” Ezra added with a brief smile. “But it was so hauntingly familiar, so painful to see you all… knowing that you aren’t the people I once knew. I told myself that maybe it’s destiny. Josiah… my Josiah… once said that. He believed it was our destiny to ride together. After 120 years, destiny found it fit to repeat it all.”  
Vin nodded, imagining what it would have done to him. He could very well imagine what it would do to him to lose the person he loved, he was feeling deeply bonded to, and to see him again, yet knowing it couldn't ever be him. Involuntarily his glance was drawn to Buck, their eyes meeting. From what emotions he saw reflected in those dark eyes, Buck was thinking just the same, and they shared a short, reassuring smile. This was something they had discussed many times before. As he looked back at Ezra, he saw the knowledge in the vampire's green eyes as the man looked from Vin to Buck and back before looking down on his hands again, and he smiled faintly. He should have known it wouldn't go by unnoticed; the vampire had something like a sixth sense. Or maybe five extremely good ones, Vin mused. He knew he was about to hurt the man with his next question, maybe tear open old wounds, but it had to be done.  
"He is not your Chris, Ezra. The man you used to know is a long time gone now."  
"I know." Ezra raised his head and looked at Vin, face open with honesty. "As I said, the Larabee blood is singing to me. He is not my Chris, not the Chris Larabee I knew and loved. He is someone else, someone I’d like to get to know and definitely unique. I can't explain it to you, because I don't understand it myself, but I know that I love him – and given time he will realize his love for me. As Josiah once stated, the Lord loves a riddle. Maybe he is the reason I am still alive. I was - tired so many times before, but I never did it. Yes," he smiled at Buck’s face, "even vampires can commit suicide. But I shied away every time it appeared to become too much, and I didn't understand why. Now I know."  
“So what you feel is real? Not a memory?”  
A nod. “Very much real. Chris feels it, too.”  
Vin and Buck exchanged a look. Well, Chris was no stranger to same-sex relationships. He wouldn’t turn away from it.  
“And the way he reacts?” Vin wanted to know. “I mean, it’s kinda extreme….”  
Ezra smiled faintly. “Do you think it’s any less for me? Something connects us, over the centuries, and it’s calling. I want to answer it,” he added, voice barely above a whisper.  
"Ahm, Ezra, one thing,” Buck said slowly. “You're a vampire, he's  human. He will grow old, you won't."  
Ezra closed his eyes for a second before he answered the unspoken question.  
"I know, " he said slowly, "I will cross that bridge when I come to it. One way or the other."  
At these calmly spoken words, Vin and Buck looked at one another in silent communication as they understood what their friend was implying.


End file.
